


Newsy Nightmares (Roleplay)

by Whoreofaneboy



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom!Technoblade, Cuckolding, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Glove Kink, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Lemon, M/M, Mafia AU, Not My Fault, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roleplay, Roleplay Logs, Smut, Top!Wilbur Soot, Trans Male Character, Trans!georgenotfound, Vaginal Sex, Wilbur fucking monologues, bottom!Dreamwastaken, bottom!GeorgeNotFound, dom!Wilbur Soot, excessive buildup, no one wanted to stick with mine, the tenses are inconsistent, this is too damn long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoreofaneboy/pseuds/Whoreofaneboy
Summary: [Disclaimer: Applicable to all of my in-progress works] This fic is indefinitely discontinued, and it is extremely unlikely that I will be updating it again, though I may continue to post short things/oneshots.Though I appreciate the comments I receive asking about updates or enjoying my/this work, do not expect updates.————Two of the most notorious criminals in the city, and one seductive journalist end up tied to chairs by no one other than Wilbur soot. Talking and smut ensues.Notes: There’s a lot more background than that but honestly it’s not important to enjoy. I pretty much just took a fic concept I had and then made it horny for a fun and kinky roleplay with friends that got way out of hand. I’d never done one before but it turned out to be really fun, and if you’re on the DDK server, there’s a good chance you’ve seen this before.Written with: Prim, Ashtray (you said I could call you that), and Max_With_Anxiety
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade/Wilbur Soot, GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 63
Kudos: 537





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is very horny and self indulgent and has small inconsistencies but thus is the nature of roleplays.
> 
> I don’t want to tag the characters because that would take actual centuries, but you should be able to tell who’s meant to be writing, as it switches every paragraph or so. 
> 
> We’ve also made like 6 versions of this since...

Wilbur leans back against the edge of his desk, gloved fingers delicately cradling a pocket watch as he stares at the three young men in front of him. Each has been tied to a chair, some different sizes than others. George’s is smaller, older, the leather worn and soft. Dream’s is hard wood and too small for him to sit comfortably. Techno’s left on a beat up barstool, forcing him to hunch to maintain balance as his hands are tied behind his back, and one wrong move could send him careening to the floor.

“So what exactly do you want from us, Mr. Soot,” Dream was the first to speak, glaring at the man sitting so comfortably at his desk.

George was terrified. He didn’t like this; not the situation, but the fact he liked being helpless and tied to a chair like this. He was grateful that he seemed to have the most comfortable out of the three, but he was scared because that may be the nicest thing he gets from the person who had him hostage. He couldn’t even speak out of fear, his shoulders hunched and head down as he listened to everyone else. He prayed to God that he would at least make it out alive and sane.

Wilbur raises one eyebrow before responding, “It’s not me who _wants_ something, it’s you who needs it. But I’m not just going to give you back an empire for free, Dream.” He can’t help but feel an inkling of curiosity, satisfaction by Dream’s use of Mister, the corner of his mouth turning up softly. _At least he has some respect_

Dream scoffed and looked at the floor, a speck of dust there suddenly seeming interesting to him. “You already have so much, Wilbur. You don’t need anything more. It doesn’t benefit you to keep using my company, as it doesn’t gain you any profit or recognition. Give it back.”

“Oh you’d be surprised what your company gets me, that name of yours goes a long way around here. But you’re right I suppose,” Wilbur sighs, “it’s more cosmetic than anything.” He walks forward, long smooth strides bring him right up to Dream’s chair, the other man’s eyes still focused on the floor. That’s not where Wilbur wants them to be. He grabs Dream’s chin firmly with a gloved hand, tilting it up so he can look Dream in the eyes. “You can get your company back Dream, all it’s going to take is for you to obey. Is that so hard for a bastard like you?”

Techno wasn't sure why he was in this situation. He was already being blackmailed by the man, so why have him here with his rival and the man's pet? Staying silent, he waited for whatever his captor had to say.

“I will not succumb to the likes of _you_ ,” Dream spat, staring at the man in front of him with venom in his gaze. “Never. I would much rather take my dying breath early than do so.”

Wilbur chuckles. “You think you’re tough? You think this is about _you_ getting hurt? Dream, I have plans for all three of you, and they’re going to happen with or without your consent.” He steps back, surveying the three once again, and he can’t help but marvel at the little rush of accomplishment. It’s in their: faces, fear, regret, anticipation. They can’t do anything now. They’ve no weapons, not even basic leverage. And he knows how to start his fun with Dream. His eyes drift toward George, attempting to hide himself, ashamed of his very presence but tied in such a way it’s nearly impossible to vanish. The chair he’s tied to is wide compared to his small frame, his ankles bound tightly to the legs of the chair, and arms bound tightly behind his back, pushing his chest forward.

“George,” Wilbur asks, eyes calm and assessing, perhaps with a hint of intention, “how many times have you been intimate with Dream?”

Dream’s head snaps over to look at George, his eyes wide as he silently begs the boy not to disclose that information.

George felt fear pang in his chest as his name was said. His eyes were wide and scared, but hidden by his messy hair that hadn’t been cut in a while. He didn’t dare look up at Wilbur, his body beginning to shake as his mind raced to find an answer. 

“I-I...” Was all he could get out. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t want Dream or Wilbur mad. Too late for that now.

Wilbur strows over to George, lowering himself to be eye to eye with the nervous young man. But George refuses to meet his gaze, even as he reaches forward, brushing the messy brown hair back from his brow with cool, gloved fingers. “Tell me, pretty boy,” Wilbur coos, “tell me how many times you’ve let that horrible criminal inside your body. After how _long_ you spent leading him on.”

George did his best to keep his gaze to the seat on the chair he was tied to. The touch moving his hair felt soft and nice, and his words felt like they promised freedom from his prison with Dream; but knowing who this guy was, it was most likely a death trap. Though maybe the chances of death or freedom was a chance he could take. 

George gulped and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to speak coherently. “I... h-he forced me,” George said, hiccuping as tears began to form in his eyes. “It- it was for a job, so I could live, a-and- he- I don’t want it anymore, p-please, sir...” He sniffled, finally looking up at Wilbur as tears tracked down his cheeks. “T-too many times.”

Wilbur strokes George’s hair again, soft and intimate, and then he cups his cheek, leaning in closer to examine George’s face, conflicted and scared, unsure of whether to lean into his touch or reject it. Wilbur leans in close, almost crouching now, one hand placed between George’s spread legs to support himself. “Are you sure?”

George was still shivering as Wilbur leaned in, and every ounce of touch from those gloves to his skin sent waves of warmth through his intimacy-starved body. He hadn’t done anything with someone before Dream, and it was all still so new and effective on him. But either way, he hesitantly nodded as he instinctively leaned back into the leather chair, intent on keeping him and Dream’s time a secret.

"That's sad Dream, you couldn't just keep it in your pants huh? I'm starting to think you arn't worth being my rival" Techno sneered as he stared incredulously at Dream. This was news to him after all, who knew the green bastard had it in him? It was pathetic in a way, too bad his attention couldn't be put into something worthwhile.

Dream turned and shot Techno a withering glare, his teeth baring as he narrowed his eyes at the man. “Shut the fuck up, Techno. You have nothing. No one. You’ll die alone and poor, without anything to back you up. I know what you do in your spare time,” he seethed angrily.

“Poor thing,” Wilbur says gently, brushing a tear away from George’s cheek. “I’d treat you different.” He feels skeptical of George’s tears, and perhaps something in his voice hints at that as he says pointedly, “I bet Dream would like to watch that, watch someone treat a pretty thing like you the way they deserve it.” He pulls away as he hears Techno’s jeer, jaw setting, expression turning to irritation as he pushed off of George’s chair and went to stand in front of Techno. 

“Don’t talk to him about being a whore, Techno,” Wilbur scolds, “No one, and I mean, no one is worth as little as you.” His eyes are cold and he places a hand on Techno’s lower thigh, just above his knee, giving it a firm squeeze. “Don’t make me remind you of your place. I’ve showed you where you belong before.”

George wouldn’t be lying if he said he didn’t consider Wilbur’s words for real. But while his mind was telling him that it was a trap, his heart was saying that it sounded like a dream. He liked Dream, he really did; but he could be mean and selfish, their first time showcasing that clear as day. To be treated like someone important? Who wouldn’t jump at that opportunity.

"Big words coming from the man who has to steal success from others just to gain anything in life. If i'm so worthless, what does that make you if you're blackmailing me?" Techno smirked. He wouldn't let himself be intimidated, he couldn't. If he wanted to prove to himself that he was the ruler of this city, he couldn't let himself be looked down on by someone who is the embodiment of a parasite.

“All you two pretty boys do is talk big,” Wilbur drawls, rolling his eyes. “You pride yourself on success garnered from fucking over innocent people.” He tangles a gloved hand in Techno’s hair, leaning in so close the other nearly falls backwards off the stool. “Now it’s my turn to do some fucking.”

Techno struggled to stay up right as the old stool wobbled dangerously. He looked up at Wilbur with gritted teeth, not wanting to give in, but knowing that if he didn't he couldn't defend himself from whatever Wibur would do to him. As a final resort to save what little pride he can muster, he uttered, "How about you make good on your claim and stop making a show of this" this being him tied to a stool getting looked down upon while his rival watched, not an ideal situation where his pride is concerned

Wilbur pulls away, one hand on either of Techno’s thighs to stable him now. “Oh Techno, you know I’m all about theatricality, and I’ve made good on my promise plenty of times in a more, literal sense,” Wilbur replies. And of course he’s referring to the nights Techno’s spent with him. “This isn’t about _you_ yet, but hell it has been so many times you may as well be molded to fit my cock.” Wilbur is more blunt than he’d usually be but he knows that’s what Techno is secretly hoping for. “I just need you to be patient for now, keep those nice pink lips of yours closed until I tell you to use them. Okay?”

Techno reluctantly nodded, he knew this wasn't a fight he could win. If he was lucky maybe the other idiot would do something to piss the dramatic man off so he wouldn't have to take the blunt of his.. Rage

Wilbur’s rage was calm and quiet, but it eased steadily as Techno nodded, and he stepped back, now turning towards Dream.

Dream had a shit-eating grin on his face as he stared at Techno. “How does it feel to be humiliated in front of me, huh, Techno? What if word gets out of how you sleep with the man who took your worth and made your reputation crumble? You’d be the laughing stock of the industry,” he snickered, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't know Dream, how does it feel that the one you trusted is begging for someone else?" Techno asked smugly. He knew he couldn't win a fight against Wilbur, but Dream was in the same situation as he is, he has no right to be that cocky when there's a predator right in front of him.

“Don’t get cocky now, Dream,” Wilbur warns, lowering himself to meet Dream’s eyes. He knots his fingers into Dream’s hair, tugging his head back harshly against the firm wooden backing of his chair, forcing the skin of his throat to go taught. “You think with your crotch first and that’s what got you here. You just couldn’t keep your hands off little newsboy over there, all I did was catch onto your little fuckup.” He leans in so close, lips not quite brushing the skin of Dream’s neck.

Dream said nothing, hissing at the sudden movement with his head, but glaring at Techno as he did so.

“How’d you like to watch me have some fun with your boyfriend?” Wilbur taunts, “I could make him be so good for me, I can make him _scream_ , and all you can do is watch.” Then he pulls back, looking Dream dead in the eyes.

George said nothing as he was alluded to, but he was still crying from earlier. He had managed to keep the noise down and attention away from him, but things weren’t getting any easier. He accidentally let s small whine out as the others talked.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Dream growled, glaring at Wilbur. “He doesn’t belong to you.”

Wilbur backs away from Dream, smiling as he hears George’s gentle whine. “Would you look at that, don’t even _have_ to touch him. Wonder what other sounds he can make. Would you like to demonstrate, George?” Wilbur goes to stand in front of George, tilting his chin up to look at his tear-stained face.

George’s already red and puffy cheeks were beginning to flush even harder as Wilbur and Dream spoke. The threat from Wilbur made him fear for his own well-being way more than Dream. As Wilbur walked over, he somehow grew even more fearful, his breath quickening as his head was tilted up. He didn’t give Wilbur an answer, instead silently begging with his eyes for mercy.

Wilbur bends over, hands secure on George’s upper thighs with a firm grip as his face is barely an inch from the other’s. “Come on, newsboy,” Wilbur purrs, “tell me that you want to be treated right, tell me that you want me more than Dream.”

“I treat him very well, thank you,” Dream insisted, speaking up again. “He doesn’t want you. Nobody wants you. You’re insignificant and none of us want you.”

Wilbur shoots a glare over at Dream, who’s turned his head to watch Wilbur and George with a near, desperate look in his eye. “You treat him like property,” Wilbur says, “I can treat him with the respect he deserves, and trust me, Dream, there’s plenty of people who’d _pay_ to be where you are now. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut and enjoy it.”

George recoiled into himself as he heard Dream speak. He didn’t want to answer Wilbur, he was too scared to. He didn’t want to speak to Dream, either. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he would be left alone if he didn’t give Wilbur the response he wanted. He knew it could completely backfire for him, too, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“George,” Dream addressed the scared boy, shooting him a soft look. “Tell this heathen that you want nothing to do with him.”

Wilbur laughs, returning his focus to George, who’s still refusing to speak up, big brown eyes wide with fear. “George,” he says warningly, “is that true? I don’t like being lied to.” He’s gripping George’s jaw firmly then, his head immobilized so he can’t turn away from the question, from either of their expectations weighing firmly on his nervous mind.

George was a nervous wreck tied to a chair at that moment. He kept his eyes shut, even as Wilbur grabbed his jaw, and tried to keep his composure. Sadly, he failed miserably, a broken sob leaving his quivering lips. He was now full-on crying, silently praying to be released from this situation by any means possible.

Wilbur wipes the tears from George’s cheeks with the sleeve of his coat, but more continue to flow, and he feels something peculiar at the sight, watching George break down when they’ve barely even started. “You don’t need to cry George, you don’t have to listen to Dream, not tonight. You’re all mine here, and I’ll listen to you.” His voice is gentle and reassuring but inside he feels something else, eyes briefly tracking down to the soft spot behind George’s ear where his thumb presses in gently, and the muscle was tense but it was already beginning to relax.

“George,” Dream spoke calmly, leaning back in his chair. “He’s trying to manipulate you. Don’t listen to him. He just wants to use you as a quick fuck and then discard you to the side, never once caring for you.”

“And here I thought you never cared for him Dream, why does this bother you so much if you’ve already had him so _many_ times?”

“I don’t want him making a mistake,” Dream smirked, narrowing his eyes at Wilbur. “I don’t care for him, but I don’t want to see him with the likes of you. You don’t deserve him.”

There’s an evident shift in Dream’s voice when he says that, a coverup, and Wilbur gets the feeling there’s something... more between Dream and George. _Excellent_ , he thinks, all the more powerful for him to exploit, to watch Dream lose his mind. “That’s the fun of it, I get to have him anyway.”

George couldn’t help but lean his head against Wilbur’s gloved hand, the touch so promising and cool. He wanted to give in so badly, even at the slightest chance he was being genuine. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to betray Dream, the person who hasn’t let him go since finding out what his real job and reasoning was, and give in to Wilbur, a dangerous criminal that’s promising so much more. 

Dream’s words struck right through his heart like ice. He finally opened his eyes and tried to look at the man beside him, wide and shocked. “Y-you... I th-thought you cared...”

“George,” Dream sighed, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.”

Wilbur grins, casting a glance over at Dream to see confliction replacing smugness in his expression. “I care, George,” he says, gently stroking his thumb across George’s cheekbone to wipe away a tear, “I don’t need to lie to protect my ego.”

_”YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME!”_ George _snapped_ , anger prevalent as he screamed. *”I-I- I trusted you...” His anger was quickly fading away, more tears flowing down his cheeks as he sniffled.

“George,” Dream tried to calm him down, his voice wavering. “Okay, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I thought you didn’t so in the moment I didn’t as well. I don’t want you giving yourself up to _him_ ,” he glared at Wilbur.

Wilbur gently shushes George’s sobbing, “you don’t deserve to have games played with your heart, but that’s what Dream does, that’s what both of them do. All you are is something cute to toy with, but not to me. How can you trust Dream when he doesn’t even trust you?” 

Wilbur turns his head towards Dream again, “you’re wretched to make him doubt himself, horrible to lie to him, don’t bluff for the sake of self-preservation. You defiled an innocent soul, and all I’m doing here is finishing the job, doing it properly.”

George shook his head slowly, finally giving in to Wilbur and leaning into his touch. “P-please, I don’t want to be here...” He begged, looking up at Wilbur with vulnerable eyes. Even if Wilbur was lying, Maybe he could at least get away from _him_.

What kind of soap opera was this? Techno doesn't quite know what is happening at the moment. At first it was a negotiation to get their success back, now it's a game for who gets the pretty twink? If he's being honest, the little one would probably be better off with Dream, since he knows first hand how Wilbur can be once he has caught someone that can't refuse him.

“Poor Georgie, it’s a shame you had to get caught up in all this,” Wilbur says, and then he’s coming in closer, attempting in vain to dry George’s cheeks as he kisses him firmly. His other hand moves further up the chair, nearly placed on George’s lap.

Dream growled at the sight, struggling under his binding. “George, you’re making a mistake! I’m sorry, okay, but don’t give into him!”

George was a bit caught off guard by the kiss, but couldn’t help but kiss back. Dream’s words made him lean into Wilbur even more, wanting _more_. It was too promising not to.

Dream was appalled by the sight. The beautiful crying boy that used to be his was now willingly locking lips with his enemy. “Fucking slut,” he hissed under his breath.

George would have said something to Dream if he wasn’t busy making out with someone objectively way hotter.

Wilbur smiles slightly against George’s lips as he hears Dream protest, and George leans forward almost eager as he returns the kiss. Wilbur’s hand slides down from George’s face to fiddle with clips on his suspenders, absent yet intentional, making sure that Dream can see every small action, pulling back ever so slightly so that Dream notices when he slips his tongue into George’s mouth. And he hears Dream whisper under his breath, then he unclips George’s suspenders.

Dream is being tortured over in his seat. He hates seeing George being taken by Wilbur - that should be _him_ fucking the boy.

Wilbur removes George’s suspenders, having to reach behind him to do so, and gently running a finger along the pronunciation of his spine before finally unclipping them at the back and tossing them aside. The press of his mouth against George’s shifts from reassuring to demanding, both of his hands now resting on the young man’s hips, beginning to untuck his crisp white shirt, and when his shirt-tails are out Wilbur begins with the bottom button, slowly undoing it.

George was writhing and wriggling under Wilbur as he removed his suspenders. He let the man do it, though, already knowing where this was going to go. At this point, he didn’t care. His lips were so sweet, even as he became more demanding. George liked it. As Wilbur’s tongue slid into his mouth, as his suspenders were tossed aside, as his shirt was being removed; George just let it happen. All thoughts about Dream were replaced with Wilbur: someone he barely knew, who could kill him for all he cared, but someone that could take away Dream. As he moaned into Wilbur’s mouth, he barely even thinks about Dream watching, or even the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest.

Dream began to kick and struggle some more, and in the process, he managed to get his chair to slide some on the floor. He continued doing this, slowly getting closer to Wilbur and George as he went.

Wilbur undoes each button slowly, swallowing the little moans that come from George as more of his pale chest is exposed to the open air, but Wilbur doesn’t lay a hand on his skin, not yet, not until he’s finally ripped the shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. But as soon as he does his attention is drawn to the bandages on George’s just, and he breaks the kiss, stopping to examine more closely. He places a hand in the center of George’s chest and asks, “What’s all this, George? I don’t like it when things are hidden from me.”

George doesn’t question how his shirt is thrown to the side when he’s also tied up. He instead focuses on the kissing and the touch he was expecting, only for Wilbur to pull away. George let out a whine as he chased his lips, only for Wilbur’s words to hit him like a rock. 

George is silent at first, his eyes looking at the floor instead of Wilbur. How was he supposed to explain this??? “I-i... I don’t have the r-right body,” He tried. “It... the bandages, they help me...”

Wilbur tips George’s head up, “I’m not mad,” he says softly, “I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, all I know is that you’re adorable and Dream is losing his mind watching me touch you.” Wilbur pulls a knife from the inside of his jacket, slowly, gently running a gloved finger along the blade before pressing it up against George’s skin. Wilbur hears Dream trying to scoot his chair across the floor, but he knows that the other won’t make it very far. So he works slowly, lifting up the edge of the bandages and slipping the cold knife underneath, and the bandages are sliced through with some effort. Then Wilbur is able to tug them away, discarding them, leaving George’s chest bare. He stares at it, fingers itching to touch.

Dream is about an eighth closer to Wilbur and George, which isn't a big difference, but a difference nonetheless. He appeared to be still wanting to go and approach them, probably to stop them, but Wilbur definitely had some time before he would make it over there.

George flinched as he watched Wilbur take the knife out, holding his breath as he felt it on his skin. When Wilbur cut off and removed the bandages instead of hurting him, George finally let out his shaky breath, relieved that he was in the clear. Then, after a moment, his face went red as he realized he was out for everyone to see. He wasn’t the biggest when it came to breast size, but even the little bit he had was embarrassing. He instinctively moved his arms to try and hide himself, but the ropes prevented him from doing such. He looked up at Wilbur, fear and embarrassment clear in his expression as he waited for what the man had planned next.

Wilbur doesn’t touch yet, but his tongue darts out quickly, wetting his lips. He turns his attention away from George, and sees that Dream has managed to move his chair about a foot or so in a valiant effort to stop Wilbur’s advances on George. “Think you can stop me?I’m going to take my time with him, Dream, see how _eager_ he already is? Look at him blushing so pretty.” His eyes return to George for a moment as he says, “so perfect for me.” He stalks over to Dream, knife still held in his hand, and walks around the back of his chair, dragging it over to where it was before, and he presses the knife up against his throat. “You wanna try that again? Or are you going to be fucking patient?”

"Leave him alone," Dream hissed, lifting his head slightly so that his neck was farther away from the blade. "He doesn't want you. He doesn't know what he wants. You'll only hurt him."

Wilbur presses the knife even closer. “And did he want you, Dream?” Wilbur questions. “Did you even bother to ask before you had your way with him, or are you just so entitled you assumed he wanted or enjoyed it?”

Dream said nothing. He wanted George at the time that he had been with him, and he thought that George had wanted him too. He thought that even though he didn't explicitly ask if it was okay, then it was. It was just implied that way. He scoffed and looked at George through his peripheral vision, trying to gage how the boy was taking all this.

Being called perfect struck something in George that made him feel happy, wanted. He liked it. He was sad when Wilbur had to go deal with the other person (he didn’t even care to think about him), but decided to be patient with him. He didn’t pay too much attention to their conversation, instead distracting himself by thinking about what was to come and how excited he honestly was. He had been trapped by Dream so long that he forgot what it was like to be touched by someone else, even himself.

Wilbur takes Dream’s scoff as enough of silence, returning to George’s chair. “Good boy, so patient.” He puts the knife away, and then he ruffles George’s hair gently, smiling at him in the most endearing way he can manage when all he wants to do is feel up every inch of him.

Dream glared over at George and Wilbur, saying nothing and stopping the movement of his chair as he watched them. He hated this. He hated watching someone else being in control, especially when it was Wilbur fucking Soot. However, as much as his brain told him that he wanted this to stop, wanted this to be over, his body betrayed him as he felt his pants slowly getting tighter.

Wilbur has to crouch again, considering how much shorter George is than him, especially tied to a chair, and he places his hands in the space between George’s thighs. He’s getting impatient, his own desire growing even as he knows it’s more enjoyable when he takes his time, but George’s body is so warm, so inviting. His legs are spread, cheeks red, and expression a mix of fear and desire. Wilbur buries his face in the crook of George’s neck, pressing his lips gently against his skin.

George couldn’t help but smile a bit when he was called a good boy and his hair was ruffled. The smile he got from Wilbur made him smile back. As Wilbur kissed neck, George moved his head to give the man room, letting out soft noises of appreciation. He hoped to have a few marks on his skin by time this was over.

Wilbur spots George’s throat with soft kisses, tongue swiping against his skin, and the little noises he makes go straight to Wilbur’s cock. He’s already wondering how loud George can get, and then he goes from kissing to biting, hoping to garner a stronger reaction. He pinches George’s soft skin with his teeth, wet lips plastered to his neck, creating suction and he stays on long enough to leave a bruise, thinking about Dream seeing little marks on his boyfriend’s neck, having to remember who left them there.

George felt like an absolute slut as he moaned. His neck was sensitive, and each little kiss and quick swipe of his tongue built up a heat in his stomach. Then Wilbur began to bite, and it drove George crazy. He tried to hold back some of the noises, but it all felt so good. He began to wiggle his hips, trying to draw Wilbur’s attention there. He needed some friction or he was going to go insane.

Wilbur notices George’s writhing, and he pulls back from his throat, watching as he strains against his bonds, hips reaching upwards towards nothing. “Already needy,” Wilbur whispers, “Such a slut. I’m not Dream.” He smiles. “If you want me to touch you, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

Dream felt a growl in the back of his throat as a result of Wilbur talking down on him. He could get whatever he wanted from George by making it look like he was better than him, huh? He hated that. He hated when someone had power over him, and he _especially_ hated the fact that Wilbur had power over George now.

George let out a small whine, mentally debating if it was worth it or not for a second. “S-sorry,” He apologized first. “But please... please touch me,” George paused, not knowing what he should call Wilbur.

“Precious little thing,” Wilbur coos, “you’ll get what you want, just let me get to it first.” Wilbur comes in close again, murmuring close to George’s throat, “And it’d be better if you said my name next time.” His gloved hand comes up, sliding up over George’s thigh, briefly brushing past where the boy is certainly aching for his touch. He runs a single finger up from George’s navel, stopping between his breasts. Curiosity piquing as he focuses on what George spends so much effort trying to hide from the world.

George gulped, murmuring, “Yes sir... Wilbur.” His breath hitched as Wilbur’s hand brushed his neglected part, taking in a deep breath as he felt the man’s hand stop between... them. “I don’t like them,” George muttered to Wilbur. “Dre- h-he likes to mess with them, but it doesn’t feel... good, or bad...?” George tried explaining it, but he really just doesn’t care for his breasts sexually. It feels good to be touched in general, but nothing special there.

“You don’t want me to touch here?” Wilbur asks calmly, looking at George sympathetically, “that’s okay, I’m not Dream, I listen.” He says that last bit pointedly loud, pulling his hand away, placing it on George’s thigh. “Tell me where you do want to be touched.”

“I listen!” Dream insisted, kicking so that he could try and slide himself over. Much to his dismay, he only succeeded in knocking the chair over, and he fell with it. He heard distant laughter from Techno as he blushed from embarrassment.

George couldn’t help but smile a bit at how nice Wilbur was being. “I don’t mind you touching me there, I guess, but sometimes it does hurt from the bandages...” George explained to him. “...he always kept going when I told him it hurt.” George snickered a bit when he heard Dream fall over.

Wilbur is forced to pull away from George for a moment. “Both of you knock it off,” he scolds, going to right Dream’s chair. But instead of leaving it as is, he drags it, with some effort, so that Dream is positioned in front of George, although several feet back and off to the side slightly. Then he returns to stand in front of George. He turns his head back briefly and says, “figured I should give you a better view.”

“Okay, I’m glad you can be honest with me, George,” his hand is placed on George’s chest again and he bends over, kissing George again, briefly, and then pulling away. “I’m sorry Dream hurt you,” he muttered.

Dream groaned and decided to focus on something else, _anything_ else. He turned towards Techno and began to scoot his chair towards him, wondering if striking up a conversation with his rival could be distracting enough.

“Dream,” Wilbur warns, “I put you there for a reason, and I expect you to stay put.”

Dream ignored Wilbur. What would he even do? He knew that the man didn’t want to kill him. He continued making his way closer to Techno.

Techno watched as Dream crept over, slowly scooting his way along despite the annoyed look Wilbur throws him.

“Fucking hell,” Wilbur says, “Sorry, George, you’re going to have to wait. Isn’t this classic Dream, taking all the attention for himself?” Wilbur stands up, pulling his shoulders back and turning towards Dream. “When I said I wanted you to behave I wasn’t kidding.” He’s irritated now, his trousers are too tight and George is all needy behind him, _that’s_ what should be taking his attention right now.

Dream turned and glared at Wilbur. “Don’t mind me. Go fuck little Georgie over there.”

"And what do you have to gain by coming over here, Dream? You can't do anything useful besides just being an annoyance" Techno said, absolutely hating all the noise Dream was making trying to drag the chair across the floor. The green bastard should have stayed to watch his pet, since he sure as hell isn't getting him back after this is over.

“No,” Wilbur says, Grabbing a fistful of Dream’s hair and pulling his head back. “I want you to _watch_ and since you won’t stay still I guess I didn’t tie you up enough.” Wilbur pulls the knife out from his coat again, and releases Dream’s hair. Then he’s crouching, cutting the ropes that bind Dream to the chair and tugging him to his feet, and over towards the desk. There’s a pair of handcuffs on it’s surface he hadn’t anticipated using them tonight, but he grabs them. He forces Dream down onto the floor, pressing his foot onto Dream’s chest, keeping him down as he unlocks the cuffs. And in a few minutes, Wilbur has his arm cuffed to the desk, something that’s far too heavy for him to move.

George was sad that Wilbur kept having to leave him. The kiss he got between Wilbur taking care of the other two was nice, but he wanted Wilbur back and all to himself. He couldn’t help but send a glare of daggers to Dream, for once feeling like he wanted to murder someone, and that was coming from someone who would play the pacifist route first go in undertale.

Dream growled as he felt the handcuffs around his wrist, giving it a tug to test. Sure enough, he was forced to stay put.

Finally, Wilbur returns his attention to George, who looks so delightfully desperate now. He’s fidgeting in anticipation as Wilbur comes closer, and asks, “Can I trust you to be untied?”

Techno watched the scene unfold and felt disappointed that this was his rival, the man who always caused problems for him. "Nice going idiot" Techno murmured

Dream rolled his eyes at Techno. “Fuck you, pig.”

"I'm not the one getting fucked first, your pet is" Techno retorted

George was a bit surprised by the question, but quickly nodded his head. “Yes, sir,” He said. He thought about being able to touch Wilbur back, or even help him take care of the other two. _Maybe he could even get some revenge on Dream._

Wilbur smiles, “that’s what I like to hear.” He reaches behind George’s back, untying his hands gently. Then he crouches down, cutting the ropes that keep George’s ankles against the legs of the chair, and his legs spread. “I want you to be more comfortable,” Wilbur says sympathetically. “Can you stand up for me?”

Even as his legs were let free, George kept them spread obediently for Wilbur. He didn’t object when he was asked to stand, nodding as he did. His pants were a bit loose and sagging without his suspenders, but he didn’t care.

Wilbur smiles, gently pulling George aside and lowering himself into the chair where George had been moments before. He pats his legs gently, “come sit, George,” he says.

Dream growled and slammed his fist down on the desk angrily, knocking a few pens down as he did.

George flushed a bit at the request, but gladly obliged. He then stopped for a moment to ask, “Which way?”

“However you’re comfortable,” Wilbur says softly, but his voice gets a bit lower as he adds. “But I think it would be better if Dream could see your pretty face while I touch you.”

George nods and thinks for a second before sitting down in Wilbur’s lap, facing the man instead of Dream with his legs spread over Wilbur. “I don’t want to look at him the whole time.” He explained to Wilbur, his hands going to rest on his shoulders. “I want to look at you, if that’s okay...”

“Of course,” Wilbur says softly, forcing himself to keep composure when George is so close to his growing arousal. He puts his hands on George’s hips, and says louder, “He can still hear you, so you’ll just need to be a bit more, vocal, for me.” He pecks George on the lips. “Can you be a good boy and be nice and loud?”

Dream hissed and looked away, there wasn’t much else he could do.

Despite being a bit flustered at the thought of being loud, George nodded. He wanted to be good for Wilbur. “Yes, sir.” He muttered obediently.

“Excellent,” Wilbur says, and he hums softly, taking his hands off George for a few moments to semi-awkwardly remove his coat, and toss it on the floor. Left in nothing but a white shirt for the moment, he sets to work on George. He grabs a handful of George’s hair, and tips his head, and the rest of his body back enough to comfortably plant his lips on the young man’s collarbone. He bites gently, and his other hand comes up to give George’s chest a little squeeze, marveling at how supple his flesh is.

George let out a low moan as his hair was grabbed and his skin was bitten. He let go of Wilbur’s shoulders and placed his hands behind him and on Wilbur’s knees for support, gladly letting the man do what he wanted as Dream watched.

Dream watched George pressing into Wilbur, watched the boy want to be closer to the _enemy_. He hated it. He hated how naïve George could be some times, how easy he was to manipulate, and how he didn't seem to care who was fucking him as long as they pretended that they cared. He scoffed and turned away, trying to find anything else to focus on.

Wilbur took his sweet time working down George’s chest, even as George shifting and fidgeting on his lap drove him mad. His arousal was getting to be unbearable as he licked and sucked, squeezed and teased. Every little sound that came from George was so satisfying, and he could see Dream, silently seething as his eyes constantly darted back to the scene slowly unfolding before him.

George was a mess as Wilbur tore every ounce of sanity from him. He occasionally let out small squeaks between moans, his hands gripping Wilbur’s knees. “Wilbur...” George said softly yet loudly. He wanted Dream to hear it and to hate it. He wanted Dream to suffer.

Wilbur grins, finally separating his mouth and hands from George’s skin, now dotted with small bruises and damp from Wilbur’s tongue. Wilbur hums. “My name sounds so good from your lips,” he says, placing his hands on George’s hips and tugging him closer, eliminating that last bit of space between them. Then he’s burying his face into the column of George’s neck, gently licking one of the marks he’d left there earlier, and letting out a soft hiss of pleasure as he finally gets some friction against his cock, even through all that fabric it feels amazing.

George groaned as he tilted his head back for Wilbur, the bit of friction he got from the man moving him feeling like heaven. George wanted to grind on Wilbur, but was scared to make him upset. He let out a desperate whine, hoping Wilbur would understand what he wanted. To add to it, he moaned lowly, “Wilbur...”

Dream was fucking _pissed_ . He hated that George was moaning Wilbur's name, and _willingly_ (pun intended), too! George deserved so much better. If he was to be honest to himself, he didn't even deserve George, but the fact that he was fucking Wilbur was a new low.

Wilbur obliges George’s obvious desire, rocking his hips forward, and up slightly, pressing himself harder into George. At this point he’s chasing George’s little sounds more than his own pleasure, but when the other moaned his name like that, so _desperate_ , he felt himself twitching in anticipation, almost unconsciously pulling George closer to him.

George bit his lip as Wilbur pushed his crotch against his own, rewarding Wilbur with a shaky moan. As Wilbur pulled him closer, he let go of his knees and moved his arms to wrap around Wilbur’s neck, holding himself close to the man treating him so well. If he was offered the chance to stay at Wilbur’s side in exchange for freedom from Dream and a respectable boss, George would gladly take that position.

“Do you like that, George?” Wilbur asks, grinding harder against George, “tell Dream how it feels. I’ll take my time, but I’ll bet he didn’t waste five minutes before trying to fuck you.” Wilbur’s aching trying to keep himself together, to go slow and make Dream suffer while he watches George get what he deserves.

"No, please," Dream croaked, sounding a lot more broken than before. "George, don't do that. Don't."

George hummed to Wilbur as he turned his head to look back at Dream, giving the man a cold stare. “Wilbur, you feel so good...” He began to talk, tilting his head down and leaning it against Wilbur’s. He kept his icy stare at Dream as he spoke. “You’re so warm... you’re being so nice to me. _Thank you, Wilbur._ ”

Dream felt betrayed, staring at the man with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. He decided to cope with his feelings by turning his head away with a 'tch', wishing that he could erase his memory at that moment in time.

“I’ll always be nice to you,” Wilbur says softly, bringing one hand up to stroke George’s hair, “and you can be mine, but only if you want. I’ll make you feel good, I’ll give you _more_ than Dream ever has or will.”

George didn’t like that Dream looked away like he didn’t care. “Oh Dream~” He called out, waiting for the man to look at him before he would grind his hips roughly against Wilbur, causing himself to moan as his hips stuttered from the pleasure. “F-fuck, Wilbur...”

Dream glanced over at the sound of his name, hoping that George wouldn't torture him more, but he was _so_ wrong.

“That’s right,” Wilbur says, voice raspy with tension and arousal now as George seeks friction, “you’re doing _perfect_.”

“Wilbur...” George panted as he nuzzled the side of the man’s head, finally looking away from Dream. “Please, I’ll do what you want me to do. Just don’t leave me with him again...” If anything, this was a step-up opportunity in life for George, and like hell he was gonna say no to it. Fuck Dream, he has Wilbur now, and he’s more powerful than Dream could ever hope to be. “I’ll be good for you. I promise~”

"George," Dream breathed, his hands balling into fists. "Don't. What the fuck would you even do for him, huh? He can't give you anything that you want."

“You’re forgetting who’s in charge here Dream, who has all the resources, and who has a little slut begging for them. I have _plenty_ to offer. Isn’t that right George?” Wilbur says, grinding against George once more.

George let out a breathy moan, quickly nodding to Wilbur. “Yes, please,” George said, sounding desperate. “You’re so smart, strong... so much better than _him_.”

“George, watch your tone,” Dream tried to be more authoritative.

George replies to Dream simply by lifting his hand and holding up his middle up, not even bothering to look back at him.

Wilbur laughs softly as George’s, aggressive dismissal, and he’s still squirming against will, little pants and gasps coming from him. “Oh, George,” he says, “you’re going to make me blush if you keep talking like that.” George is still nuzzling Wilbur affectionately, almost like a cat seeking a scratch behind the ears, and he gently grabs him by the jaw, pulling his head back so he can look the young man in the eyes. “Are you ready for more?” He asks teasingly.

George let out a small whine as Wilbur forced his head back, but obliged. “Yes sir, please,” He said, letting out a small moan as he ground down on him. “Make me feel good~”

“You’re so precious,” Wilbur says, smiling as his hand goes down again, both now holding George’s hips firmly, pushing him back slightly to prevent him from pressing himself up against Wilbur again. “I need you to stand up for me,” Wilbur directs.

George once again let out a desperate whine. He was trying to be patient, but Wilbur was just so hot. George reluctantly obeyed, scooting back and standing up in front of Wilbur. He stepped to the side just in case Wilbur was going to stand up.

Wilbur did stand up, and he turned to face George, resting on hand on his shoulder. His other hand slid down to the waist of George’s pants, where they sat low on his hips, just a bit too big for him, especially without suspenders. “Can I take these off?” Wilbur asked, tugging at the fabric. “Or do you want to undress yourself?”

George felt a rush of excitement at the question. “Whatever you want to do,” He answered, hoping Wilbur would take them off and finally get on with it. He was just really horny, okay?

Wilbur undoes the buttons on George's slacks and as soon as he pulls the loose fabric down past his hips they pool on the floor. He steps out of them, already left in socks as a soft precaution. He's wearing men's boxers that hug his hips a bit too tight, and Wilbur pulls those down too, leaving him in nothing but gray socks.

George feels his skin flushing as he’s exposed, but what’s promised is going to be so very worth it. As his pants slide down, a wet spot can be seen clearly on his boxers. After his boxers are pulled down he steps away from the clothes and closer to Wilbur, his hands rising to grab Wilbur’s shoulders. He’s a bit embarrassed with his body, it not even being pretty feminine wise, but he tries not to think about it.

Wilbur’s hand slides slowly from George’s shoulder to his chest, gloved hand now doubt cool against George’s hot skin as it travels downward. Then both of his hands are on George’s thighs, wrapping halfway around them. One of his thumbs glides slowly across George’s skin, and even through gloves he can feel how slick it is. His fingers brush a bit higher, and he smiles at George. “I doubt you made this much of a mess for Dream,” he taunts, saying ‘Dream’ just a bit louder than the other words in that sentence.

George shivering at the cool touch of Wilbur’s leather gloves, letting out a small moan as he feels Wilbur touching him. “A-ah... Wilbur,” He breathed out, his legs beginning to shake.

Dream was horrified by the sight of George being such a slut for Wilbur - he couldn't help but feel jealous as well. George didn't behave this way when he had his way with him!

“No response, oh well,” Wilbur says, glancing down, and he can see George’s legs are trembling as Wilbur’s hands rise higher, exactly where George needs them, but not quite close enough. Slowly, painfully slow, he brushes a single finger against his entrance, and watches George convulse at the contact. Even through the leather on his finger Wilbur can feel the warmth of his body, and it’s enticing, intolerable.

George practically melts against Wilbur as he feels his gloved finger against him. He so badly wants it inside him. “ _Please,_ ” George muttered, leaning his head against the taller’s chest. “I’ll be good for you, please sir, I need you...” He was desperate at this point. He really needed it, he needed Wilbur.

This little show of dominance had gone on for long enough, Techno thought. He knew he needed a plan to get out of this situation, at least while Wilbur is distracted torturing Dream and entertaining the small newsboy.

George leans his head against Wilbur’s chest, his voice so soft and desperate that Wilbur can’t help but oblige, and he works his index finger into him slowly, leather creasing in a peculiar way around his finger as he crooks it slightly. His other hand is rubbing slow circles against George’s thigh.

George can’t help the low moan that slips past his lips. He didn’t know what the deal was with the gloves, but it was so different from regular skin, yet it felt _so good._ “Wilbur...” George breathed out. “You’re too good for me... a-ah-“

Having a plan formed in his head, Techno couldn't find it in him to hesitate as he tips backwards on the rickety stool, causing its legs to break off the seat. He grunted as his head hit the floor not so gently as he waited for the haze to leave his eyes.

Wilbur’s voice is soft and reassuring. “Don’t talk down to yourself, love. You’re perfect, so good for me,” he croons, curling his finger and slowly sliding it out of George, back in again. George is so tight around his finger, so hot and slick. Wilbur’s already imagining what he would feel like around him as he works in another finger, slow but more deliberate this time, all the way up to the knuckle. He spreads his two fingers apart, forcing George’s muscles to relax and stretch for him.

George is practically a pile of puddy as he leans against Wilbur, holding on to him like his life depended on it. He gasped and moaned softly as Wilbur added another finger inside of him, his legs barely being able to hold up his small body anymore. “W-wil...”

Techno sat up to see that Wilbur didn't even spare a glance his way as he had his way with the newsboy. He realized that even out of his restraints he couldn't truly get out of this without something worse happening to him. So instead of bolting to the door, he sat among the remains of the old stool, watching whatever unfolded while Dream suffered

Wilbur’s sure to take his time with two fingers, smirking softly when George moans his name. There’s something so viscerally satisfying about it, especially as Dream falls apart in the background, having gone from irritated to an absolute mess. Then he’s up to three fingers, stretching, hooking, thrusting slow as George leans on him for support. His other hand has to come up from George’s thigh, arm wrapping around George’s waist to help keep him up. “I just want to make sure you’re ready,” Wilbur coos, “I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.” Even if George’s body was...different from Techno’s or Dream’s he wants to give him the same treatment he would to them, he’s behaved well so he deserves to feel good.

George moves his arms to wrap around Wilbur’s neck as he arches his back, his body melting at the feelings of pleasure washing over him. “Wilbur...” George moaned obscenely, nuzzling the man’s chest. “Thank you...”

“Do you think you’re ready for more?” Wilbur asks, fingers still working, furious yet tender.

Dream looked away, not wanting to see George’s fucked our expression and the fingers in his cunt.

George let out a low moan before nodding. “Yes, please... I’m ready for you.”

Wilbur pulls his fingers out slowly, wiping his hand on his shirt. He quickly realizes that he’d rather not be wearing it. He steps back from George’s swaying form for a moment and quickly undoes the buttons, peeling off the garment and tossing it to the side. “Where do you want to do this, George?” He asks, always offering him choices, even if he seems too flustered to take advantage of them. Options create security and trust. “You can sit on my lap again, I’ll let you set the pace.” The hand he hadn’t stuck inside of George came up to cup his cheek, “Or I can put you on the desk? I bet you’d like that, I bet Dream would hate it.”

George was a bit upset he had to let go of Wilbur, but it was worth it to see the smooth skin of his chest. When given the options of where to fuck and the desk being brought up as a suggestion, George immediately knew he wanted to do that. “The desk, I want him to suffer.” George said as he looked up at Wilbur with those almost innocent yet desperate eyes.

“No,” Dream gasped, pulling at the handcuff. “Please, no.”

"How can I say no?" Wilbur grins, gently grabbing George by the waist and leading him over towards the desk. "Your cruelty is astounding, you know?" Wilbur says, hands coming up under George's thighs as he lifts him up and sets him on the edge of the desk. Once George is comfortable he steps back. "Give me a moment." Wilbur walks around the edge of the desk, opening up a drawer and producing some rope. "I just want to make sure Dream's not going to try anything."

“Wilbur,” Dream looked up at the man, being reduced to begging. “Please. Don’t do this, I won’t try anything, just stop!”

George smiles as he’s set on the desk, his arms about to wrap around Wilbur until he backs away. George is sad as Wilbur walks around the desk, but he puts his hands in his lap and waits patiently for him. He couldn’t help the excited look that shined on his face as he saw the rope and heard it was for Dream.

"Like I'm going to trust that," Wilbur says, attaching the rope on one side to the desk, the other side to Dream's wrist, giving him a remarkably short length of rope to work with. But that isn't enough, and he ties Dream's ankles together too, just to provide extra inconvenience.

Dream sighs and goes slack, knowing that he can’t do much else. He lost. He hated to admit it, but he lost. He had lost George, the boy probably saw him as less than dirt now, and he was going to have his revenge.

As George watches Wilbur tie Dream up under him, he can’t help but smile down at the man. He couldn’t help but not care how much torture Dream was being put through. He thought it a bit funny, honestly. “Wilbur~” George called out to him, reaching out. “Come on, please~ I need you~”

Wilbur stands up again, returning his attention to George, who’s legs are spread as he waits patiently. Wilbur runs his fingers through George’s hair briskly and says, “thank you for waiting.” He kisses him softly, only for a moment before asking, “are you ready now?” But he can see George fidgeting impatiently, hands twitching, and his own are already on his belt, unbuckling it.

George leans into the kiss for a moment before Wilbur pulls away. He watches as the man starts to undo his belt, and he can’t help but grow more excited at the sight. “Yes sir,” He says, looking up at Wilbur, his excitement and arousal clear as day. “Where should I put my hands?” He didn’t know and wanted to be a good boy for Wilbur, okay?

“It doesn’t matter to me, as long as you’re comfortable.” Wilbur can feel desire buzzing in his veins as he unbuckles his belt, and then his buttons, folding down the soft fabric of his boxers, and finally pulling himself out, feeling a thousand times better now that he’s not rubbing up against the inside of his trousers anymore. He presses himself up against George’s needy cunt, and both of them are twitching in anticipation.

George shrugged and placed his hands behind himself on the desk, supporting himself as he leaned back. He watches intently as Wilbur frees himself, his face and shoulders going red just at the sight of how _big_ he was. He spreads his legs a bit more for Wilbur, shivering as he feels Wilbur against him. “Are you seeing this, Dream?” George asks, amusement lacing his words. “He’s so much bigger than you... I don’t even know if he’ll fit all the way.” Of course, George was going to take him all the way in, anyways.

Dream shuddered and recoiled from George, saying nothing. He didn’t want to answer. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to…

At that, Wilbur can’t contain himself, he’s been careful enough prepping George up to this point. He watches as the boy spreads his legs a little wider in a pleasing sort of way, and then he’s squeezing George’s hips tight as he forces himself inside. He nearly groans from the pleasure, forcing himself to maintain some semblance of order, clenching his jaw and digging his fingers into George’s hips. He’s ungodly tight around Wilbur, even after all that stretching. And when their hips are finally pressed together it’s delightful.

George takes in a deep breath before Wilbur pushes inside, and _gosh_ did it feel like heaven. George moaned and leaned his head back as his walls were stretched so beautifully. There was a twinge of pain, but it made it twice at good. When Wilbur’s hips connected with his, he finally got a chance to breath. “F-fuck, Wilbur...”

Wilbur feels even better when George moans in that sweet way, nuzzling George’s neck affectionately as he revels in the feeling of _finally_ fucking Dream’s cute little toy, knowing the other man is silently screaming, but he can’t be bothered to pay attention. “Tell Dream how it feels,” Wilbur growls, “tell him who’s better.”

“No...” Dream mumbled, his face contorted with disgust. “No, George, please...”

“Can’t handle being one upped?” Wilbur sneers.

George moves one of his arms to wrap around Wilbur’s shoulders, holding the man closer. “Dream, he’s so much bigger... he feels so good, I could come just like this...” George, despite Dream’s protests, told him anyways. “Please, Wilbur, you can move. I promise I’ll be good for you.”

Dream gulped and looked at the floor again, telling himself that if he ignored it, it would be over soon.

“Good boy,” Wilbur purrs, pulling out slowly before slamming back into George, “did you hear that Dream?”

Dream said nothing. He didn’t want to say anything. He wanted this to be over, he wanted out, he didn’t want to be here anymore. Death would be better than this.

George felt a rush of pleasure go through him from the simple thrust, electing a happy moan from his throat. “Fuck... Wilbur~”

Wilbur repeats the motion, this time with more force, always loving the noises George makes. Then he’s doing it again, and again, setting a moderate pace of thrusts, basking in George’s moans and the sensation of him squeezing tight around his cock. “You fit better than a glove,” Wilbur murmurs.

Each thrust earns Wilbur a moan until he’s going at a steady pace and George is switching between moaning, panting, and saying Wilbur’s name. He’s already dripping on the ground (or Dream if he’s sitting that close) as Wilbur had just begun to properly fuck him.

Dream felt a bit of the fluid fall on his pant leg, and he cringed at the feeling. It was cold, wet, and sticky, and it was George, but he was never this wet when he fucked him. It was Wilbur, apparently always so. Look at the way the brunet was enjoying himself - how could he have it in him to stop him from getting the pleasure he wanted, he desired?

Wilbur maintains a relatively consistent pace, cooing softly to George, coaxing out moans and whimpers when he decides to change up his thrusting. One high pitched-noise has George looking embarrassed. “So good for me, love,” Wilbur praises, “It’s wonderful when you show me I’m doing it right.”

George let out a small whine as he was praise, the words going into his ears and down to joking the heat in his stomach. “W-wilbur...” George muttered. “More, please... I-i can take it...”

Wilbur hums softly, forcing outward composure as all he wants to do is fuck this poor boy until he screams. But he’s been so good, Wilbur wants to treat him right. “You’ll get there eventually, kitten,” Wilbur says, slowing his thrusts just enough that he can see George arching his hips up in deseperation.

George groaned at the pet name, only for Wilbur to slow down. Of course, George starts to wiggle in protest, thrusting his hips as the pleasure starts to dwindle slightly. “Wilbur...” George whined, looking at him with puppy eyes. “Please...?”

“You want me to go harder?” Wilbur teases, giving one solid thrust before stopping completely. “Beg for it, darling.”

George thought Wilbur was going to give it to him, but when he stopped, he practically sobbed. “ _Please_ , sir, I need you...“ George began to claw at Wilbur’s back, trying to gauge any kind of movement from him. “I’ll do anything after this, please, j-just give it to me....!”

Hearing George beg so prettily for Wilbur sparked something carnal in Dream. Those words weren’t for him, they were for Wilbur, his captor and his rival, but he felt them go straight to his dick anyways as he shifted to try and get more comfortable.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Wilbur whispers, “you’re so precious when you beg.” But then he pulls out of George completely, leaving him confused as he says, “why don’t we make this more fun for Dream? Can you stand for me, Georgie?”

“Mhmm,” George bums as he quickly follows instructions, desperate to get Wilbur back inside of him. As he slides off the desk, he realizes how shake his legs are as he nearly falls over, but he manages to catch himself with the desk before he can.

Wilbur helps as George stumbles, holding him up and turning him around so he can support himself with two hands on the edge of the desk. In a matter of moments Wilbur’s fucking him again. It’s different this time, harder, less restrained as he fucks George so roughly his hips slam against the desk. He’s panting from the effort, bending George harshly over the edge of the desk, leaning over him and holding onto his waist.

Dream groans and tries to cover his ears, not wanting to hear or see any of this as he curls up into a ball-like shape and squeezes his eyes shut.

George was a bit surprised at first when Wilbur started off rough, but as he was bent over and practically fucked into the desk, he couldn’t complain. George moaned like a fucking porn star, shameless and _loud_. “Fuck, W-Wilbur- Yes, yes yes yes-“ George bit his lip, his hands reaching out to grab the other side of the desk for something to hold on to.

“Say my name like that again,” Wilbur rasps, “fall apart for me, sweetheart.” He thrusts himself into George so hard the other is certain to have bruises forming on his hips from the force of it. Wilbur’s lips are close to his ear, traveling lower and he nips George’s throat.

George groans as the words go straight to his heat, his legs shaking under Wilbur. “Wilbur~ gosh, fuck...!” George pulls on the desk, panting harshly as he tries to get some oxygen. “ _Wilbur!_ ”

He’s thought the word ‘desperate’ a lot of times tonight, but this time it truly is, the way George says his name. And it spurs him on, he finds himself losing focus, thrusts erratic and violent, all matching that same bruising force. He feels George quivering around him.

George is a mess underneath Wilbur, to say it simply. He’s started to tear up from the amount of pleasure that wracked his body, despite the bruises already forming on his hips. Wilbur feels so good inside of him, and he feels so close to his climax. _“Wilbur~”_

Wilbur keeps fucking, him, forcing himself not spill over just yet, he can feel George twitch and clench. He’s almost there, he almost has the satisfaction, and it’s amazing. He wants to hear that particular sort of plea when George comes, the one that means he’s won, what will make Dream truly lose his mind.

George is so close, so fucking close. He doesn’t want this to end, but he knows it has to. If he’s lucky, he’ll get it again and again, but even he knew that it was not the mot probable. Still, he relished this time, holding back his orgasm until he just couldn’t take it anymore. At a particularly hard thrust, George finally screamed, his hand reaching back to grab his own hair and pull as he orgasms. Of course, he had to add the cherry to the creampie: “FUCK, _WILBUR-!”_

Wilbur’s panting was rabid now, barely able to contain himself as George contracted around him, almost aggressive, and it was too much for Wilbur to handle. He barely got George through his climax with short, harsh thrusts before he was coming into his own. “George, holy _hell_ ,” he groaned as waves of heat washed over him. He twitched and pulsed as he emptied himself into George, having to stabilize himself on the edge of the desk.

Dream grunted under them, shocked and feeling betrayed, and they were reminded of his presence.

Even after his climax, George moaned as he felt Wilbur come inside of him. It was so warm, and it just felt so much better and more welcomed than it ever did with Dream. As George came down from his high, he couldn’t help but smile as he felt his and Wilbur’s come drip down.

Shaky and tired, but relieved and satisfied, Wilbur pulls out, admiring the sticky mess all over George’s thighs, satisfied with his work. “You were _perfect_ George,” he says softly, “I hope you remember what it feels like to be fucked properly. You can always come back for more.”

George was finally able to catch his breath, sighing happily as he relaxed against the desk. “Thank you, sir. That was amazing...” George hummed as he moved his arms to make a make-shift pillow for himself, nuzzling into them and closing his eyes. He needed a break after that intense fuck. He also knew it must be torture for Dream underneath him, to watch as the leftover fluids dropped down his thigh. Meanwhile, it reminded George of the best moments in his life so far.

“You can go sit back down,” Wilbur suggests, assuming it would be more comfortable leaning over the desk. “I’ll give you time, but don’t get too comfortable,” his voice drops a little lower, “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

George simply hummed, shifting his body but not making any move to actually get up. “M’kay,” He muttered, his voice muffled by his arms. “Comfy here...”

Wilbur sees George collapsed on the desk, legs to shaky too properly support his own weight. He glances at Dream on the floor for a moment before gently picking George up, carrying him bridal-style and setting him down in the comfortable chair.

George was just vibing on the desk, teasing Dream just by being there as he did, when Wilbur picked him up. He let out a whine of protest but didn’t do anything else except cuddle against Wilbur’s chest until he was set down. He moved around in the chair until he was curled up while laying his head in his arm on the armrest, eyes watching Wilbur intently. He was curious what the man had in mind for the other two.

  
  



	2. Dream's turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After George is thoroughly fucked, it's Dream's turn to get some special attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm bottom Dream. Also a bunch of dialogue and foreplay but yes, there is porn.
> 
> Again, sorry for errors and inconsistencies. This is a roleplay, and formatting and conversion is tricky, and we tend to make mistakes.

Wilbur made sure George was comfortable, and then he walked over towards Dream. He crouched down beside him, grabbing his hair to pull him up straight as he'd leaned back against the desk. There was so much pain in his eyes.

Dream said nothing. He didn’t want to. He had just watched someone whom he cared about (though he didn’t want to admit it) to some extent be violated by one of his worst enemies. It broke him.

"Oh come on, Dream," Wilbur coaxed, "tell me how you're feeling. Tell me how it felt to watch George fall apart like that."

“Fuck you,” was all Dream had to say, his voice cracking as he said it.

Wilbur tsked. "No, I think you've got it backwards." He tips Dream's head back against the desk, pulling his throat taught and planting his lips there, going slowly upwards until he's reached Dream's ear. "I'm going to fuck  _ you _ , but since you've been such a brat all night, I'm not going to be as nice as I was with little Georgie over there."

Dream said nothing, not wanting to give Wilbur any more satisfaction as he already had control of him. He grit his teeth and stopped himself from trying to kick Wilbur, not wanting this to be any worse for him.

Wilbur's teeth dig into Dream's neck, and he sucks firmly, hard enough to ensure that he'll leave a mark for at least a week. He moves to straddle Dream, holding himself up on the other's thighs as his lips move lower, and bites down harshly at the junction of Dream's neck and shoulder.

Dream gasped at the sensation, jerking around and making it harder for Wilbur to mark him. “Get your hands off of me!” He hissed, trying to have some semblance of control.

Wilbur settles himself more comfortably on Dream's lap, and then he's gripping the side of Dream's face with one hand, and pushing down on his opposite shoulder with the other to keep him from moving around. "It's not your place to be giving orders," Wilbur says lowly, breaking away fron Dream's skin for just a moment. Eventually he reaches the last bit of skin before the collar of Dream's coat, and he realizes he should have taken it off first.

Dream glared at Wilbur and looked him in the eyes. “It’s not your place to be giving orders either. You don’t deserve this. You’re a monster.”

He pushes the garment off Dream's shoulders and down onto his arms as far as he can manage, and setting on the buttons of his shirt. "It's not about deserving," Wilbur says, popping open one button, then the second, "it's about power, and it looks like I have it here." Then two more buttons are undone, a lengthening triangle of Dream's skin visible.

Dream hissed as his skin was exposed to the cold air, flinching as he felt Wilbur’s fingers through the shirt. He hoped that the man wouldn’t go any lower (because he would definitely notice the tent in his pants from watching him with George), but he knew that he would. There was nothing he could do.

Wilbur undoes the fifth button, eyeing up Dream's bare chest, quite enjoying the sight as he opens up more and more of it for everyone to see. Then he's on six buttons, seven, eight. He peels open the shirt as wide as he can, but his eyes are on Dream's belt then, a bit lower. There's an obvious bulge in the front of his slacks already. Wilbur smirks.

Dream notices where Wilbur’s eyes fall and he blushes furiously, a frown still prevalent on his face but his cheeks a pretty crimson from embarrassment.

"What a slut," Wilbur taunts, "hard already." He's not quite ready to address Dream's situation yet, but just knowing how horny he is is so satisfying.

“Don’t get your boxers in a twist,” Dream growled, eyes narrowing. “It’s not because of you.”

"Oh but  _ I'm _ the one who gets to deal with it," he presses his lips to Dream's collarbone, intermitten kisses slow and deliberate, some turning to bites as he makes his way down Dream's chest.

Dream’s back arches, his body leaning into Wilbur as the man let his lips travel all along his body. He hated this, he hated how his body was betraying him, and how he was looking like more and more of a slut by the minute.

As Dream's body responds his embarrassment is evident, but he's far too silent for Wilbur's liking. George had been so fun to fuck with how loud he was, how easily he responsed to every little touch. Wilbur finally stops, bending over now, hands on either of Dream's hips as he contemplates the man's belt, and his painfully obvious arousal. "Do you want me to touch you?" Wilbur asks smugly.

“No,” Dream croaked, struggling even though it was no use. “Get away from me. I don’t want your hands on me!”

As George watched from the background, he couldn’t help the amused smile on his lips. Dream was finally getting what he deserved for using him, and George has the pleasure of watching with a front-row seat.

“You’d rather wait?” Wilbur asks, “you’d rather I take my time with you, maybe just leave you here until you decide to change your mind?”

Dream hesitated. He didn’t want to wait a long time to get his erection taken care of, but he didn’t want it to be Wilbur that helped him out with it. He’d rather have fucking Techno help him our as opposed to Wilbur, and that said something.

"Come on Dream," wilbur says, "what do you want?"

“I have an idea if he can’t decide,” George spoke up from where he lie on the chair. “Just let me know if you’re curious. Wilbur~”

"Yes, George?"

George hummed as he stood up from the chair, his legs still a bit shaky but useable. He walked ungracefully over to the two before sitting down on his knees next to Wilbur. “Come here, I can’t ruin the surprise for him.” George gestured for Wilbur to lean towards him so he could whisper the idea to him.

Wilbur grinned obliging hin and leaning in close so the other could whisper in his ear.

George cupped his hand around Wilbur’s ear as he whispered to him. “Strip him and tie him to the chair like you did with me, and leave him for a bit. If he really wants to keep his pride, let him.” He explained to Wilbur, smirking as he did. Dream was going to regret fucking with his emotions.

Wilbur pulls a little further away from Dream, just to make sure he can’t be hear. He gently pecks George on the lips before saying softly, “you’re devious, but I think I’ll leave him naked on the floor. I don’t want him scooting his chair around like a buffoon again.”

Dream was curious as to what Wilbur and George were discussing, but he didn’t want to know at the same time. He could only hope that he wouldn’t suffer too much  even though he got himself into this situation in the first place .

“George,” Wilbur says, “I need you to untie Dream while I hold him down. Can you do that for me?”

George nodded obediently, the little kiss from before having made him a bit giddy as he smiled. “Hands or ankles first?” He asked.

“Hands,” Wilbur says, moving over to Dream and straddling him once more, prepared to use force to restrain Dream in case he tries anything.

Dream didn't know what to do. Wilbur  _ and _ George had these evil looks in their eyes, and he didn't like it one bit. He flinched as he felt Wilbur get on top of him as he saw George, all naked and beautiful, walk over to him and prepare for whatever he was about to do.

Before he went to untie Dream, George decided to lean over and place a little kiss on his cheek before untying him. He untied his hand from the desk before moving to the cuffed one. “Key?” He looked at looked at Wilbur, innocent curiosity in his eyes.

Wilbur stood up quickly, grabbing the key from the surface of the desk and handing it to George.

“Thanks!” George chirped as he took the key and undid both sides of the cuffs, just in case they needed to be used again for later.

Dream froze when he felt George press a soft kiss to his cheek, almost being reminded of the time in which he had George all to himself. The fact that George was the one that initiated it and that it was somewhere as soft as his cheek was super sweet and endearing to him, so he relaxed as George undid his binds, forgetting briefly about the fact that George was comparing him to Wilbur a few moments ago and describing how the man fucked him and cared for him better than Dream ever did.

Wilbur smiles, surprised that Dream doesn’t try to resists as he moves down to untie Dream’s legs himself. Then he slides the shirt and coat of Dream’s arms. “Sit on his chest for me, Georgie,” Wilbur directs, moving to kneel beside Dream, hands resting on his belt.

To be fair, Dream could have listened and not been a whiny bitch the whole time. It’s his mistakes that brought him here, George thought as he straddled Dream’s chest, looking down at the man’s face with cold eyes. George knew firsthand how many people Dream has hurt, and he knows that Dream deserves this. George thought he might as well have his own fun and earn himself a new job while he was at it.

Dream's expression changed when he saw the look in George's eyes. He had never seen the man look at anyone like that. He knew that George could be manipulative, hence the way he was trying to get information from him so he could make his company look bad (before Wilbur had it), but he had  _ never _ seen such  _ hatred _ in his eyes. He couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for taking advantage of him that night and then playing it off like it was nothing, but he would never admit to that.

“Perfect,” Wilbur purrs, and it really is. It’s such a beautiful sight watching George betray Dream like this, so obediently cruel to Dream as he waits for Wilbur to finish. And he does, slowly unbuckling Dream’s belt, and pulling his slacks off his legs, his boxers following suit. He’s left completely bare, laid on a cold concrete floor, his former boy toy patiently keeping him down. “You can get off now, sweetheart,” Wilbur says.

George whined as he obeyed, moving to sit across from Wilbur. He liked seeing how hurt Dream looked up close, but maybe another time. George looked up at Wilbur and awaited further instruction.

“You can tie him back up again, I don’t think he’s going to try anything.”

George smirked as an idea came to mind. “Okay, Wilbur.” George hummed as he reached up to the desk and grabbed the discarded handcuffs. He proceeded to grab Dream’s hair, forcing him to sit up for a moment as he grabbed and cuffed the man’s wrists behind his back. It was an obviously uncomfortable position, but as George pushed Dream back to the floor, he couldn’t help but smile.

Dream groaned as George grabbed his hands, sticking them behind his back so that he couldn't use them for anything else. It was indeed a very uncomfortable position, and he was scared to see what George had planned for him, but he was also a little bit excited.

Wilbur sits down, crossing his legs and watching patiently as George handcuffs Dream, and he really seems to be enjoying himself. He can see Dream’s face flashing with a range of emotions, his raging erection twitching at such a small contact from George. “That’s good,” Wilbur says, “C’mere, George, I think he’s fine like that for now.”

"Wh-what?" Dream asked shakily, very confused by Wilbur's instructions.

George gave Dream one last smile before looking at Wilbur. “Alrighty. Is it Techno’s turn now?” He asked as he stood, using the table to help himself.

“No, not yet, he’s got a while to wait,” Wilbur says, casting a glance at the pink-haired man who was left in the wreckage of his chair, looking pissed of and tired. “Come sit, George,” Wilbur says, patting his lap, “let’s have a little chat with Dream, since he’s been so resistant to speak.”

George got excited when Wilbur asked him to sit in his lap. He gladly stepped over and sat down in the man’s lap with his shoulder to his chest, leaning against the taller man as he got comfortable.

“God, George, you’re still such a mess,” Wilbur says, laughing softly. He ruffles George’s hair gently, one hand wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. He can see Dream seething as he puts his hands all over the boy once again, even if the gestures are mostly innocent.

Dream was fuming. Wilbur and George were acting as if they were boyfriend and boyfriend, and he hated it. They hadn't even been together for an hour, and George was infatuated with the man. He couldn't help but feel bad for the shorter brunet, but he also didn't at the same time. Look at how happy George was! Who was he to break that up?

George laughed with Wilbur, his laugh so innocent and pure as if he didn’t have dried come still on his thighs. He looked up at Wilbur with a smile, admiring his eyes for a moment, and mostly to infuriate Dream even more. “I know, but you caused it, so no complaining.” He spoke as if he had know Wilbur forever. He couldn’t help but hope that Dream got even angrier at that.

“That’s fair,” Wilbur replies, “I guess I really did a number on you, huh?” He kisses George playfully, softly, just for a second, looking sideways at Dream to gauge his reaction. “Since Dream won’t talk to us why don’t you tell him how you feel?” He’s seen the rage, sheer vindictive pleasure in George’s eyes as he was taunting Dream and it was such a beautiful sight. He wants to see more of it. He pegged George as innocent, and though he almost seems that way now, Wilbur knows it’s a ruse, and Dream does too.

George hummed into the soft kiss, happy and content at his circumstance. As Wilbur suggested that he torture Dream even more, how was he supposed to say no? George looked over at Dream as he raised his hand to place it on Wilbur’s chest, a surge of confidence in his voice as he spoke. “Thank you, Dream,” He started, hoping to confuse the bastard. “If it weren’t for your ego and selfishness, I wouldn’t have just had the bet lay of my life, or have the chances I do now. I don’t need you anymore, you’re  _ nothing _ , and you always have been nothing.” George’s look went from confident to cold, “You’re going to die alone and miserable because of everything you’ve done. I dug up more dirt than I ever needed after being forced to be your little toy, and now I have a reason to say fuck you.”

Dream froze at George's words. They were so cold, and he had never heard such a thing in his life that was similar to that. He had definitely been cursed out before when he was murdering people, he was hated by a majority of citizens, and he was a wanted criminal in many different states, but none of that compared to the way George just put him down right then and there. His breath hitched at the boy's words as he stared at him and Wilbur, feeling not only betrayed but also hurt.

Wilbur watches the scene unfold before him, still running his fingers through George’s hair. There’s evident pain in Dream’s eyes, like he’s been truly hurt by George’s words, and he should be. “That’s so good, George,” Wilbur purrs, “I’m so glad I could make you feel so good. You don’t need Dream anymore, you have me, and I’m already treating you better.” George deserves the satisfaction of telling Dream off, deserves to see him suffer, all Wilbur is thinking off is how to make this even worse for Dream, how to truly humiliate him. “Go on, keep telling him,” Wilbur says, “tell him how much better off you are now, tell him how much of a worthless whore he is.”

George turns his head to look at Wilbur, staring at him for a moment before leaning up to steal a quick kiss. “He’s probably pretending to be hurt, but if he isn’t, then I guess he gets to know how I felt.” George hummed as he leaned his head against Wilbur’s shoulder, relaxing in his arms. “I want to talk to you after this, Wilbur. I don’t have anywhere else to go except you. My last boss is a selfish, arrogant whore, but I think you can do so much better than he ever could. So I want to help you instead of him. Let him rot in a prison for the rest of his miserable life, for all I care.”

“Of course you can stay with me, George,” Wilbur says affectionately, holding George a little closer. Originally he’d just wanted to taunt Dream but there was something special about George’s little sadistic streak. It made him want to do things to George more than he already had, and he knew George would be a genuinely valuable asset to his team. Dream seemed to be truly suffering watching the two of them get too close too quickly, all over a good fuck and some kind words. It was too easy to make George fall for him. “We’re still gonna have some fun with Dream first,” Wilbur says.

"George," Dream spoke once more. "You're making a mistake. Think about this. Wilbur is  _ dangerous _ . He can kill you in a second."

As Wilbur held him closer, George thought about the fact that Dream was right: he could kill him at any second. But did he really care at this point? He’d been through enough shit with Dream, and now he has a chance with someone even better. He was either going with Wilbur or going back out on the streets, lonely and cold. The option was easier than deciding between eating ice cream or dog shit. “So could you,” George said coolly. “But Wilbur has enough dignity not to fucking  _ rape me _ after I’ve  _ nothing _ wrong. You deserve this,  _ Dream _ . You deserve every bit of it, and I deserve to have my chance to do something good with my life.”

Dream was appalled. He felt himself getting angry as George accused him of rape, which their time  _ definitely _ wasn't. "I never fucking raped you, George! You wanted me when we did it. You wanted me all to yourself and you begged for me, you were so desperate, too. Wilbur, you're not the only one he's wanted to be with, so get off your high horse."

“Is that true, George?” Wilbur asked sympathetically, “did you beg? Or did you just not say no?” Wilbur knows there’s a big difference between wanting something and not stopping it from happening. He’d been slow with George every step of the way, giving him options, making sure he really  _ wanted _ Wilbur in that way.

George turned his head to glare at Dream, frustrated that he had put him in the position. He couldn’t let him have one fucking thing, could he? “He forced himself on me, and I was too scared to say no. He had found out I was trying to get info on him for someone and confronted me on it then it happened. I...” George looked away from Dream, deciding to look at Wilbur’s chest instead. “...it was kind of nice, I supposed, but I never consented to it. I was scared that... if I didn’t act how he wanted me to, he’d kill me. After that, I wasn’t allowed to leave, and i tried my best to just stay alive.” George May have stretched the truth on some of it, but he was honestly scared that Wilbur would hurt him if he told the whole truth. All he needed to know was that George was on his side now.

"Liar!" Dream hissed, calling out the boy for what it was. "You wanted me just as much as I wanted you!"

“It’s okay,” Wilbur says reassuringly, “You won’t have to go through that again. I’ll only ever fuck you when you ask for it.” He shoots a glare at Dream, “that’s wonderful, Dream, I didn’t know you could read poor George’s mind when you were fucking him.”

George glanced at Dream, anger and distaste clear in his eyes. He couldn’t help but smirk a little, hoping it would get Dream angrier. The worse this bastard felt, the better. 

George was just starting to realize how much of a sadist he was. Nice.

Dream looked between George and Wilbur. They were indeed a happy, sadistic couple. He knew that they wanted the worst for him, and that fact was only proven further when he shifted and hissed at the uncomfortableness of his hard length being ignored. "Y-you have George already, Wilbur. Let Techno and I go."

“No,” Wilbur says, “I’m going to have my fun with both of you, and George is here to help.” He gently slides George off his lap, half crawling over to Dream and sitting back on his knees. Dream is still slumped against the desk, and Wilbur bends down slightly to speak closer to his ear. “I’m going to show you new things,” Wilbur says lowly, “I’m going to make you understand how George felt, I’m going to  _ break _ you.”

Dream shivered from the tone of his voice, not wanting to know what Wilbur was planning. "You already have someone," Dream said again, trying to convince the man to not go through with his plans. "You have someone who will submit to you and you can fuck him however you'd like. I have no purpose in being here. Let me go."

“Dream, you of all people would understand about taking what you want,” Wilbur half answers. “And I want you to suffer.”

  
  


Dream scoffed and turned away, not wanting to look at George and Wilbur. He didn't want this. He didn't want Wilbur. As much as he was in pain being horny and not stimulated, he would be appalled if Wilbur was the one to satisfy him.

George sat beside and behind Wilbur, intently watching as he messed with Dream. It was fun to watch, honestly. Dream was such a brat when he was forced to sub, unlike himself (George), who had been an absolute doll for Dream. That fact only made him want Dream to suffer even more.

Wilbur straddles Dream’s thighs, leaning over and planting his lips on the other’s throat for a bare moment before going in with his teeth, pinching almost hard enough to draw blood, and sucking on his skin. He has his weight rested on his hands, on either side of the front of the desk, near Dream’s head.

Dream growled and squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth grit as he endured the pain. "I don't want your mark on me. I don't belong to you."

Wilbur pulls away for a moment, laughing softly as he says, “too fucking bad,” and does it again, lower this time, just a couple inches below Dream’s collarbone, and this time he does draw blood.

Dream gasps as his back arches beautifully, his body trying to chase the stimulation and pleasure. The pain went straight to his dick and it twitched slightly, his body wanting friction already. "N-no," he breathes, his forehead furrowed as Wilbur has his way with him. "I don't want this, I want you to stop. Stop, stop, please just stop..."

“Oh, that’s a shame, you want me to  _ stop _ ,” Wilbur says pointedly, watching a small amount of blood trickle down Dream’s neck, pausing to lick it up slowly, but it begins again. “But your body seems to want it.” One of Wilbur’s hands comes down to stroke Dream’s cock, slowly, running one finger up the length of it before stopping. He watches as Dream shivers.

Dream's hips buck as he tries to chase the feeling, wanting more than just being teased. "Stop... please..."

“Look at you,” Wilbur says, “chasing after one finger. Don’t lie to me, Dream, I know you want more.” He repeats the motion, even softer this time, not wanting to give Dream any kind of relief.

Dream let loose a small moan, though his eyes went wide afterwards and he tried (but failed due to his restraints) to cover his mouth.

Wilbur smiles, lightly squeezing Dream, running his thumb over his tip, hoping for a stronger reaction. “Come on, I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, I want to you to  _ talk _ to me.”

Dream keened, letting loose a louder whimper. "N-no!" He still tried to resist, turning his head away.

Wilbur can feel himself getting hard again at those needy noises, even as Dream tries to resist his desire is painfully obvious. It’s a shame he won’t be sated in the way he’s hoping for. “Fine,” Wilbur sighs, “would you rather I put your mouth to some other use?”

"I'll bite your dick off," Dream warned him. "Don't you dare."

“Oh, you’re going to have to do it eventually,” Wilbur says, “I’m sure you’d rather not take me dry.” His voice gets low, a note of warning in it, “bite me and I’ll put you in a hospital.” He lightly squeezes Dream’s cock again.

"Least I won't be the only one there," Dream smirked, but jerked when Wilbur squeezed his length.

“Don’t get cocky, Dream,” Wilbur says, “I’m not the one naked and handcuffed.” He grabs Dream’s jaw with a gloved hand, thumb running gently over his lip.

Dream said nothing, looking down at the floor.

His thumb presses against Dream's lips. "Open," he orders.

Dream hesitated, staring at the thumb in front of his lips. Should he listen and make this easier for himself, or struggle and try to make it clear that he didn't want to do this?

"Be a good little slut," Wilbur says, "don't make this harder than it needs to be." He presses firmer between Dream's pink lips.

Dream sighs and parts his mouth just slightly, allowing the man to slip his gloved finger in.

Wilbur dips his thumb into Dream’s mouth, enough to wet it, then slides it over Dream’s lips, making it a bit easier to force his index and middle finger in there, brushing the back of Dream’s throat.

Dream gags slightly, making a disgusting noise, but Wilbur obviously wouldn't care. The man just kept going, and Dream could taste a bit of the leftover clit juice on his gloves.

“Obedient little whore,” Wilbur says, somewhere between insult and praise as he slowly slides his fingers in and out of Dream’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat each time, and getting them nice and slick. “Isn’t it better when you listen?” He asks, knowing damn well Dream doesn’t have the capacity to speak as he finger-fucks his mouth.

Dream whined, the noise causing vibrations to go through Wilbur's fingers. He hated the taste of the gloves, the rubber feeling in his mouth, and the knowledge that George had been pleasuring himself on those fingers less than twenty minutes ago.

Wilbur keeps going longer than he needs to, enjoying the indignation on Dream’s face as he goes. But eventually his fingers slip past Dream’s lips, leather slick and shiny. He moves lower down Dream’s body, so he’s around the man’s knees, pulling them apart and kneeling between his legs. His fingers come up to press against Dream’s hole, and he grins at him.

“Please...” Dream begs, staring at the man with wide, scared eyes. “Please don’t do this...”

“Why not?” Wilbur asks, slicked-up index finger prodding his entrance, “are you afraid, Dream? Not used to being the one getting taken advantage of?”

"I-I've never..." Dream gulped, not wanting to admit what he was about to say. "Nevermind."

“No,” Wilbur says, “tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

"It's not important," Dream insisted, closing his eyes as he tried to imagine himself out of this situation. "Don't worry about it."

“It’s okay,” Wilbur says softly but without sympathy, “I know what you were going to say, I know someone like you has never been able to relinquish control. I know this is new to you.” Then he’s pushing his finger into Dream, forcefully, even as his tense muscles resist the intrusion.

The friction of it all  _ burned _ as the first finger entered, causing Dream to yelp in surprise as a tear slipped down his cheek. "Stop! It hurts! Please, please pull it out!"

Wilbur grins, slowly dragging it out before easing it back in again, watching a tear fall slowly down Dream’s face and drip down his jaw. “It’s  _ one _ finger Dream,” he taunts, “you can’t even handle that?”

Dream whimpered, cheeks as red as a tomato as Wilbur violated him. He had pegged others before, but he had never been pegged himself, and even though he didn't explicitly state it, it must be pretty obvious to both Wilbur and George. Even though Wilbur was only putting in one finger, there had been no lube, only saliva, and there wasn't a lot of it either when he went in. The whole sensation was painful, but not in a good way, and all he could do was take it.

Wilbur shook his head, watching as Dream’s cheeks flushed a dark degree of red, and he began to steadily thrust in and out. He could see Dream’s cock twitch, he could hear whimpers dragged from his throat as he finally began to relax around Wilbur’s finger.

Dream hated the way his body was responding. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be horny from Wilbur fucking him, but his body was.

As soon as he deemed Dream ready he was sliding in his other finger, working quick before the saliva on his glove dried. He worked fast, impatient with Dream’s inexperienced body, having no sympathy for his pained whimpers. If anything they made Wilbur more aroused, achingly curious to see how Dream would respond to more.

Dream yelped again as another finger was added, pumping in and out of him relentlessly. He was shaking as he rolled his hips, his body wanting more friction while he wanted this to stop.

Wilbur watched with vindictive pleasure as Dream bucked his hips into Wilbur’s hand, no doubt it was killing him inside to be feeling so much from this. Wilbur scissored his fingers, making a rush of prepping Dream as he’d spent long enough torturing the man with words. He had his own needs to satisfy, even after having been with George already tonight.

“Stop...” Dream mumbled brokenly, hoping the man would listen.

“Should I stop, George?” Wilbur asked the young man to his side. “Does he deserve it?”

After the first few minutes, George had gone back to his chair. After a bit more, George had actually stopped watching, a pit forming in his stomach. Even this was getting a bit much to him, and he was still new to this. As much as Dream deserved it, George couldn’t help but pity Dream. He even thought about reconsidering his side, but only for a moment. He shook that thought away and distracted himself by messing with a bit of worn leather on the chair. 

When he heard Wilbur call his name, George immediately sat up and looked back at the two. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and lied back down, hoping Wilbur would assume he fell asleep. As much as he hated Dream, he (George) was still a bit sensitive and not as heartless as Wilbur seemed to be.

“I guess he’s all tuckered out,” Wilbur says, “you just have to deal with me.” He gives Dream a bit more work before pulling his fingers out, but not with an intent to leave Dream be. “Get on your knees, Dream,” Wilbur commands, standing up.

Dream struggled slightly as he got on his knees, his whole body trembling with the thought of what was coming next.

Wilbur has to pull himself out of his trousers again, but he’s already taken his belt off and they’re sitting low on his hips. It’s fresh all over again as he’s exposed to the cool air, and he grabs a fistful of Dream’s hair, holding him steady when he has no hands to balance himself. He pressed the tip of his cock up against the other’s lips and says, “just enough to get it wet, don’t get any  _ ideas _ .” Wilbur’s voice is laced with warning and he looks at Dream firmly, waiting for him to do something.

Dream cringed at the sight of Wilbur’s shaft, pulling his head back and trying to not take it in. “I don’t want to.”

George couldn’t help but listen to the two. He couldn’t distract himself now, it was starting to get to him. George’s mind wandered and he realized Techno was still in the room. He quietly sat up and looked to where he knew Techno had been, wondering how he was doing.

“Dream,” Wilbur says slowly, “It’s for your own sake, do you really want to make this worse?” George had taken him so well but his body was different, shoving himself into Dream dry would easily be painful and difficult, more so that it would already be for the man with no experience.

“No,” Dream said quietly, letting his tongue slip out of his mouth and give Wilbur’s dick a test lick.

“That’s what I thought,” Wilbur said, loosening his grip on Dream’s hair a little.

Dream took a deep breath before taking the tip into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it as he experimentally bobbed his head.

“Good little whore,” Wilbur purrs, savoring the warmth and wetness of Dream’s mouth on him, “you can take a little more than that.”

Dream hated it. He hated being called a whore, he hated sucking Wilbur’s dick, and he hated the position he was in right now. However, he knew that he would have to get as much lubrication as possible to have Wilbur enter him with less pain, so he brought his head forwards and let Wilbur’s dick hit the back of his throat a few times.

Wilbur grunted as Dream’s mouth glided down onto him, tip hitting the back of his throat as he unconsciously tugged Dream further down onto himself, watching as he started to struggle a bit.

Dream made some disgusting noises as he was pulled down even further, some more tears slipping down his cheeks as he was.

Wilbur sees the tears welling up in Dream’s eyes, watching as they spill over his cheeks. He’s probably done enough now, and reluctantly, he releases Dream’s hair, allowing him to slide off Wilbur.

Dream coughs and desperately gasps for air, his eyes blown wide as some saliva runs down his chin.

“How did that feel, Dream?” Wilbur asks smugly, watching him pant, seeing his chin all covered in drool.

“I h—“ Dream stopped at the hoarse sound in his voice, coughing some more as he tried to clear his throat some. “I hate you.”

“Well you’re about to hate me a lot more,” Wilbur laughs, “lie down for me.”

“I don’t understand how you gain pleasure from this. You’re sick,” Dream snapped, but lied down anyways.

George couldn’t help but listen to the two. He couldn’t distract himself now, it was starting to get to him. George’s mind wandered and he realized Techno was still in the room. He quietly sat up and looked to where he knew Techno had been, wondering how he was doing.

George noticed how spaced out he looked. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Techno has fallen asleep with his eyes open. George glanced at Wilbur and Dream for a moment before standing up and heading over to the other mafia boss. He then stopped for a moment and looked around for his shirt and boxers. Using his discarded pants, he wiped the mess off of himself before slipping on his boxers and shirt. He didn’t bother to button more than a few of the buttons as he walked over to Techno and bent down next to the man. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked him quietly, not wanting to alert Wilbur.

The sudden presence snapped Techno out of his daze. He looked up slightly at the man standing above him, wondering when he put his clothes back on. Ignoring what Wilbur was doing to Dream, he responds "Why would you care?" Doing his best to give a bored expression despite being secretly grateful that someone finally wasn't pretending he wasn't here.

George gave the man an unamused look. “Unlike Dream, I actually have a heart and empathy. Sorry for thinking you looked uncomfortable.” George said sarcastically, but he made no effort to leave Techno. Instead, he sat down, legs crossed and about a foot away from Techno.

"Shouldn't waste that 'heart and empathy'" Techno replied sarcastically back, not wanting to let on just how uncomfortable he was in this situation where he hads to watch his rival get everything taken from the bastard the same way it happened to himself.

George took a deep breath and sighed. Did he really want to put up with this? No. Did he have anything else to do? Also no. One nearly outweighed the other, so he stayed by Techno. “Look... I’m just trying to be nice. If you want me to leave you alone, just say so. But if you’re as “weak” as I am when it comes to watching this stuff, then having something to distract you is nice, and maybe we can help each other there.” George hadn’t intended on revealing that he wasn’t having fun watching anymore, but here he was, nervous that Techno was about to be a bitch to him about it. What did he expect from a mafia boss, anyways? George was ready to get up and sit in the corner after Techno would insult him, filling expecting him to be an asshole like Dream.

Techno didn't quite know how to respond. He wasn't expecting this from the pretty little thing, does he even realize what he's offering? And was it really worth Wilbur's wrath if he turned out to be possessive over his newest toy? It could, however, be a statement to Wilbur and Dream that he wasn't just going to be a pushover once this all plays out, that he still had the power he had before. With the new confidence brewing inside of him, he put on a fake smile and asks "Are you sure this is what you want to do? Have you even considered what Wilbur would do to the both of us if we do something he doesn't like?" He didn't mean to let that insecurity be known, but he figured it was better to be honest with the only person who even bothered to address him after Dream's chair stunt.

George was a bit confused by Techno’s words, his face scrunching in confusion as he raised a brow at the man. “I just want to talk a bit, would he really get upset over that?” George questioned, though he had noticed the bit of insecurity in Techno’s words. “I mean, I guess you know him better than I do. If you think he’d get upset, then I can go.” George really didn’t want to, though. He was already beginning to forget about the scene going on behind him, and he wanted to keep it that way. He was also a bit curious as to why Techno was here, too. Of course he had heard about him, but unlike Dream, George didn’t know him that well. Rumors are rarely ever true, the only way you can know a person is by actually talking to them.

It took Techno a few seconds to register what George said. Did he only mean talking? He could feel the tops of his ear heat up with embarrassment as he realised that was not the kind of distraction the pet was referring to. Wanting to cover up the misunderstood offer he made a show of looking at Wilbur and then back to the newsboy "Well, then again he looks busy at the moment, i'm sure we can have a conversation while we wait for him to be done with the green bastard" Techno offered, not wanting to be alone again to the show that hit too close to home.

George noticed how the man turned a light pink, but didn’t say anything. “Yeah, I was hoping so. Even if it’s just about the weather or something, anything so I don’t have to watch... that.” George glanced away for a moment before looking back down at Techno. “Do you want to sit up? It doesn’t look very comfortable down there.” He offered.

Techno evaluated his choices. He could get up from his spot and go sit with the boy, at the risk of angering Wilbur or he could just stay where he was and still have Wilbur be angry with him because he broke the stool. Thinking carefully over the  _ excellent _ choices, he decided he might as well get comfortable before Wilbur turned his attention on him. "That sounds good, thanks" Techno says as he coaxed his legs to lift him up after being on the floor for so long. Shaking off the rope his arms were free to stretch so that he could get rid of the cinks his back developed while being in the same position for so long. He didn't want to sit down quite yet, so he stood there wondering if the pet really wanted to talk about the weather or just wanted to get dirt on him like he did to his rival. He couldn't help but be suspicious after the dramatic show he witnessed.

Wilbur watches contentedly as Dream lowers himself completely to the floor, hatred burning in his eyes as he speaks. Wilbur responds, “I’m sure that’s what George thought about you.” He drops down to his knees, grabbing Dream’s legs and spreading them wider than they already were. Shifting down further, he puts his left hand on the floor by Dream’s head, and uses his right to lift one of Dream’s legs over his shoulder. Then he sinks his hips down, pressing himself up against Dream, and placing his left hand down on the other side of Dream’s head. All he has to do his move forward a bit, and he can’t help but still to watch Dream’s expression change.

Dream tensed and his eyes squeezed shut as he braced himself for the pain. "I treated George very well, better than you ever did. Stop comparing me to yourself to fuel that already huge ego of yours."

“If that’s true, why was he so eager to turn his back to you when presented with a better option?” Wilbur says, pushing himself forward the smallest amount, “and I have  _ plenty _ of things bigger than my ego, thank you very much.”

Dream felt the tiniest bit of Wilbur's tip press against his entrance and his body jerked at the sensation. "You manipulated George," he choked out. "Because you're good at that. Don't let it fuel that ego to 300%, though."

“You’re the flawless professional, Dream,” Wilbur says, “you should’ve been able to get him to beg like that. But I guess not everyone has it in them. “ He smirks softly, seeing the way Dream flinches, he’s already throbbing from waiting for so long but it’s too much fun to get Dream riled up.

"He begged for me," Dream insisted, but he couldn't say anything more than that. George  _ had _ begged for him when they had their moment, but it certainly wasn't to the extent to which he was begging for Wilbur. As much as he hated to admit it, Wilbur was better than him in every way. He was better with his job, he definitely had more looks than he did, he could manipulate and take control of people super easily, and he was just overall the  _ best _ . Dream couldn't compare to him, and as he realized this, his expression hardened, his brow furrowed as he sported a prominent frown on his freckled skin. He would never admit that to Wilbur, though, he would never admit that Wilbur was better than him. He would never hear the end of it, and it would only fuel Wilbur to make the pedestal that he was on higher to reach. He could never be as good as Wilbur Soot. Never.

“Not from what I heard,” Wilbur says, and he can believe in a few pleasing whispers having slipped past the boys lips when they were together. But George had been putty in Wilbur’s hands. He shifts again, putting more pressure against Dream. “Are you ready?” He asks, knowing the answer is almost certainly “no” but it’s always nice to have some pleasantries before stuffing yourself inside of someone.

"Absolutely not," Dream scoffed, staring at Wilbur with such hatred in his eyes. "But you don't care."

“You’re right,” Wilbur says, and then he’s pushing himself in, eyes fixed intently on Dream’s expression until it becomes too much. Two fingers probably wasn’t enough prep, and he grunted with the effort, Dream clenching tight around him. It’s less sliding than forcing but it feels  _ amazing _ for him. When he’s about halfway in he stops, forcing himself to compose and watch Dream’s face.

Dream  _ screamed _ at the feeling, the friction causing pain to rack through his whole body as Wilbur filled him up. He felt full from his fingers alone, so taking his length was a new kind of torture for him, a torture that just kept going. Even though he thought his walls couldn't stretch any more, they did, as Wilbur used a large amount of force to keep pushing himself into the blond. Dream's whole body was convulsing and shaking, his face contorted into a painful expression as he grit his teeth, trying not to show Wilbur how much pain he was in.

Wilbur watches in delight as Dream’s face contorts in pain, a mocking note of sympathy creeping into his voice as he speaks. “How’s that feel, Dreamie?” He asks, raising his hips up a bit and shifting inside Dream. “How’s it feel to finally have me inside you?”

"D-don't fucking... f-fucking call me that," Dream croaked out, breathing heavily at the new feeling inside of him. "F-fucking...  _ hell _ , are you i-in all the way...?"

Wilbur hums, feeling a bit restless, enjoying the feeling of being squeezed so well, wanting more. He looks down at where they’re connected, knowing Dream won’t dare to. A few inches of his cock are still visible. “Not quite,” he replies, smiling, “do you want me to be?”

"No! Pull out!" Dream growled, squirming in his grip. "It fucking hurts!"

“Just give yourself a minute, Dreamie,” he says, using the nickname the other had aggressively protested against, “it’ll feel better.” Then he’s inserted the rest of himself into Dream’s tight hole, eyes falling closed for just a moment, biting his lip and muttering, “fuck, you feel good.”

Dream whimpered as Wilbur pressed the rest of himself inside of his tight hole, a few tears slipping down his cheeks at the pain. "You feel fucking horrible. It's like someone shoved a knife up my ass," he groaned, hoping to strike a nerve with that insult, though he knew that Wilbur would have his way with him no matter what.

Wilbur almost chuckles at that, but his desire and anticipation gets the better of him, and he decides it’ll be more fun to draw those tears out of Dream. He’d been such a powerful man, now brought so low, and he looks  _ lovely _ like this. He looks lovely with Wilbur inside of him, with his face scrunched up in pain and stray tears falling down his cheeks, red from anger and shame. Wilbur drags himself out again, just a bit, teasingly slow before sliding right back in, and it still feels wonderful to be swallowed up by Dream like this.

"F-fuck..." Dream whispered, his head falling back at the sensation, exposing his Adam's Apple as he swallowed harshly. "Stop... it hurts, please..."

Wilbur leans down, back arching as he runs his tongue along Dream’s neck. He thrusts in to Dream at a slightly different angle, harder this time, hips moving up as the other whimpers in pain. “Oh, come on," he taunts, "your slutty little boyfriend took me  _ so _ well, and I think you can stand to hurt a bit after all the pain you’ve caused.”

Dream cringed at the wetness of Wilbur's tongue, his whole body shuddering at the sensation. When Wilbur angled his hips slightly upwards, he hit a certain spot that made the blond gasp, his eyes open wide and his lips parting in a silent moan. "H-he's not my boyfriend..." Dream said again, tiny whimpers escaping from his mouth even though he tried to hide them. "George is his own person. He chose to be with me, I never forced him to."

"Still playing that card," Wilbur muttered against his skin, repeating the motion. "He's not yours anymore because he'd rather be with  _ me _ ," Wilbur says, a harsh thrust lining up with his last word.

"You can have him," Dream sobbed, the tears coming down at a faster rate now. "I don't care anymore. He's yours. G-get your fucking dick out of me and go pound him, he's better for you anyways."

"Nope," Wilbur says, "I want  _ you _ right now." He starts thrusting, consistently, impatient with teasing Dream, wanting to hear more of those whoreish noises he makes. "I want  _ you _ to feel this because it's painful and embarrassing and there's nothing you can do to stop me." He skims his teeth over one of the bitemarks he'd left on Dream's neck, tempted to leave another just to show him his place. And he does, fucking him more aggressively, fueled by spite for the man.

"Y-you're the worst," Dream breathed, another moan escaping from his lips. He was humiliated, his body responding in such a sexual way when all he wanted to do was be off this man, the man that was  _ better _ than him taking advantage of him. When Wilbur picked up his speed and roughness (combined with the second mark on his neck), three more tears spilled down his cheeks, leaving wet trails as they traveled down towards the floor as he let out a choked sob.

"And I'm excellent at it," he purrs, licking the blood off Dream's throat, angling his hips in that way that made Dream gasp, watching the tears come faster with sadistic pleasure. "It's getting better isn't it, Dream?" He asks smugly, seeing the way Dream's eyes widen, knowing he's struck a nerve.

“No it’s fucking not,” Dream replied, hands balling into fists as Wilbur pounded into him. “It hurts, it hurts so much, please stop...”

"Be honest with me, Dreamie," he says, giving a particularly violent thrust into that sweet spot, "what else are you feeling?"

Dream’s back arched at the sensation and he grit his teeth, refusing to talk. “I’m not saying anything to the likes of you,” he grit out in between harsh breaths.

“Guess I have to try harder then,” Wilbur says, and then he does something he knows Dream isn’t expecting...but if he isn’t going to talk. He kisses Dream right on the lips, playful but firm, something even more intimate and uncomfortable. The pace he sets shifting from a mere jog to a run, slamming into Dream over and over. He resists the kiss, but Wilbur can feel every little whimper and whine Dream lets lose.

Dream cringed at the feeling of Wilbur's lips against his. They were wet and soft but they were  _ his _ and that was enough to make it utterly nauseating to him. He then feels Wilbur speeding up the pace of his thrusts, his whole body shaking as he rolls his hips, though he doesn't know why.

Wilbur smiles against Dream’s mouth, feeling as his hips push back in a compulsive manner. He can feel Dream trembling, can feel him twitch and spasm from how overwhelmed he is. When Dream lets out a little gasp Wilbur slips his tongue into the other’s mouth, just for fun, just to take more of him as he continues to fuck him relentlessly. It’s getting harder to stay in control.

Dream recoils as Wilbur slips his tongue into his mouth, his stomach churning at the thought of their saliva combining. He decides to try and show a bit more resistance as he bites the tip of Wilbur's tongue, not enough to draw blood, but enough to hurt and give the man the sign that he was not happy with what was going on.

George almost immediately started to panic as Techno stood up and the ropes fell off of him. His worry was obvious as he looked back and forth between Wilbur and Techno. He stopped on Techno and motioned for him to sit down, genuinely not wanting trouble. “Techno, sit down!” George whisper-yelled at him. He hoped Wilbur was too distracted to hear.

Wilbur stops, completely, holding himself up on his knees, leaning more of his weight into Dream for a moment as one of his hands comes down to wrap around Dream’s throat in a warning. He breaks the kiss, pissed off with Dream’s action and visibly so as he squeezes his throat lightly, not enough to stop him from breathing, just enough to be a threat. “You worthless little bitch,” Wilbur growls, “you really want to test me like that? I warned you about biting.”

Dream is sporting an arrogant smirk, reveling in Wilbur's anger. "Guess I finally got the façade to crack, eh?" He chuckled as he felt the hand wrap around his throat.

Wilbur’s fingers pressed down into Dream’s throat, hard enough to see his eyes begin to go wide with panic.

Hearing George's plea, Techno made the conscious decision to sit down, but instead of back into the floor he sat on Dreams abandoned chair, which wasn't much better than the floor if he was being honest. There was no was he was going back to sitting on the floor, consequences be damned.

Dream felt his breathing be restricted as there was more pressure around his throat, his eyes widening at the sensation. He said nothing more, desperately trying to hide his panic, but failing miserably. He took deeper breaths, trying to suck in more air at once through his already restricted airways.

George’s nerves were racing as Techno sat down in the chair.  _ ‘This was a bad idea,’ _ He thought to himself as he internally panicked. He didn’t know how he could salvage the situation without getting in trouble, so he decided to get up and sit back down in his chair. He nervously curled his legs to his chest, hugging them and stuffing his face between his knees to blind himself from the situation. It wasn’t but a few seconds later that Dream began to scream, making George flinch.

Wilbur watches Dream’s feeble breathing, the rise and fall of his chest becoming rapid and shallow as his throat is squeezed, and Wilbur presses down harder. “Listen to me, very carefully, Dream,” Wilbur says, giving a quick thrust into him, “Obey. Don’t bite,” Wilbur’s voice got even lower, “do that again and I will  _ cut _ your tongue out. I will pull out your teeth one by one. You are not in charge.”

Techno sighed as he realised that the newsboy was coming down from his power-high from earlier. The true question was if he should let him wallow in guilt or continue to try to make conversation.

Dream whimpers as Wilbur harshly hits his prostate again, shivering at the threats. He does nothing to signify that he understands, but his eyes are red and angry and more tears are streaming down his cheeks.

Wilbur releases his throat, allowing him a moment to catch his breath, and looking at him expectantly. “You understand?”

Dream nods slightly, the movement very subtle and almost not being able to be seen, but was still visible.

“Good,” Wilbur says, adjusting his position again. He doesn’t start moving quite yet, he leans in, kissing Dream again, expecting him to be more  _ compliant _ .

Dream relaxes into the kiss this time, against his own will as he let Wilbur have his way with him.

Wilbur gives a satisfied hum, slipping his tongue between Dream’s lips as he picks up his pace, tongue exploring, thrusting in and out of Dream, feeling delightful as Dream’s body responds to him. He gets faster, quickly returning to the force he’d had before stopping to teach Dream his little lesson, regretting ever having given Dream a break, but, oh well.

Dream was humiliated, disgusted, hard under the man that he hated's touch. His hips were bucking upwards at the sensation, rolling and grinding to try and get more friction. A few more tears slipped down his cheeks as Wilbur took advantage of him, which only caused him to be more embarrassed. He  _ never _ cried, not even when he was bleeding out on the floor in pain. This was the worst pain that he had ever felt - not being in control of his own body as his enemy, rival, and better counterpart fucked the man that he actually cared about somewhat and  _ then _ fucked him into the ground.

Dream’s hips were coming up to meet Wilbur’s and he was clearly desperate for more, crying valiantly as Wilbur had his fun, trying to act like he wasn’t enjoying it. As shameful as it now doubt was, Wilbur knew what he was doing, and knew he was doing it right, albeit fairly rough for Dream’s lack of experience. He used his force, pressing Dream’s hips back down into the floor. He got a bit faster, just a bit less steady, but he’d been able to stay at this for awhile, eventually he was going to break Dream, make him unravel.

Dream felt as Wilbur's movements changed from being painful to him to causing him pleasure. He hated it as he felt his dick leaking a bit of precum as a result of Wilbur, the psychopathic sadist that had no problem ruining people's lives, including his. He let loose a louder moan, but tried to resist begging or going any further, not wanting Wilbur to have the satisfaction that Dream wanted him, or rather, his body wanted him, chasing an orgasm of his own.

Wilbur breaks away from the kiss, smiling at Dream, that loud moan going straight to his cock. He knows it’s one of pleasure, not pain, he knows the difference, it’s needier, more high pitched, more desperate. As much as it kills him, he begins to slow, just enough, enough to keep Dream irritable, not to let him come.

"F-fuck," Dream growled, his hips rolling to try and get some more stimulation. "I... don't stop," he said the last part meekly and quietly, but it was still audible so that Wilbur could hear him.

Wilbur stops all together, repositioning himself to put a hand on Dream’s hip, holding him down against the floor and preventing him from chasing Wilbur’s dick. “What was that, Dream?”

Dream said nothing, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as he was embarassed by the words coming out of his mouth. He tried to move his hips more, but it didn't work due to the pressure that Wilbur was putting on them.

“Be a good little whore,” Wilbur purrs, “don’t be shy, tell me what you want.” He’s at an awkward angle but he shifts a bit, just so Dream can feel him move again.

Dream was about to protest, but he is interrupted by a loud moan when Wilbur moves himself. "St-stop teasing..." he mumbles, still pretty quiet.

“Speak clearly,” Wilbur demands, moving his hips again, “What do you want?” He accentuates each of his words with a small movement, gloved hand still keeping Dream’s hips down on the floor, fingers digging into his skin.

Dream said nothing for a while, debating whether or not he should let go or continue to resist. He decided to avoid the question and simply said, "I'm not your whore."

“Okay then,” Wilbur says, “I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just left you like this? Let you suffer for awhile, or maybe just-“ He gives one, slow, dragged out thrust, eyes glued to Dream’s face.

Dream's head fell back as his eyes closed, moaning loudly and whorishly at the slow motion. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..."

Wilbur smirks, “answer me Dreamie.”

Dream said nothing else. He was really being stubborn, trying not to follow Wilbur's wishes as he resisted the urge to beg.

Wilbur repeats himself, “Tell me what you want.” He pulls out slow again, sliding back in and finishing with an aggressive, jerking thrust that makes more tears well up in Dream’s eyes.

“I... I want...” Dream groaned again, his back arching into Wilbur’s as more tears slip down his cheeks. “Fuck! I... I...”

Wilbur sighs, his hand moving from Dream’s hip. He uses his own body weight, pressing roughly into Dream and keeping him on the floor. He grips Dream’s jaw, forcing him to look at Wilbur as he stills completely. “Dream,” he says warningly, “don’t  _ choke _ on it,  _ say _ it.”

Dream looked Wilbur in the eyes, a mix of fear and lust prevalent in his. “Fuck! Wilbur, please, I need... I need you...”

“What, exactly, do you need, hm?” Wilbur asks, irritated and aroused at the same time by Dream’s directionless neediness, how it seems like he can barely think straight when Wilbur moves.

“Mm,” Dream whimpered, trying to desperately get some friction. “I want... I want you to— to v-violate me...”

He staunches Dream’s feeble grinding, pressing him harder down into the floor. “You need to be a bit more specific,” Wilbur tells him, giving a slow, small thrust of his hips. “Tell me,  _ exactly _ what you want, use that slutty little mouth to beg for me.”

“I-I’m not a—“ Dream was interrupted by the teasing thrust and finally broke, moaning wantonly as he babbled “Fuck Wilbur! I want you to use me, fuck me, make me cum, please please please please please...”

Wilbur’s hand falls back down to floor, supporting him properly and he grins at Dream. “There you go.” He thrusts a bit harder. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He does it again, and again, and again, gradually picking up speed. “What a good little thing,” he says softly, “Begging for me like a whore.”

Dream’s inhibitions went out the window, his eyes squeezed shut as he moaned prettily for Wilbur. “Yes! Yes, yes, right there,  _ fuck _ !”

His movements become rougher much quicker this time, and he pants softly with the effort, Dream still so warm and tight around him as he slams into him over and over. He presses sloppy kisses to Dream’s lips, and to his throat. He whispers in a raspy voice, “perfect bastard, so needy for me.” And it seems like Dream is barely holding on to sanity as he gets even more aggressive, teeth on his skin, pace turning from a run to a death-sprint as Dream slowly falls apart.

Dream’s back arched and he whimpered, muttering things under his breath as he moaned loudly.

Wilbur continued to fuck him.

Dream began to beg even more, his hips rolling and saliva running down his chin as Wilbur slammed into him. “Harder, faster,  _ fuck _ Wilbur I’m acting like such a slut right now!”

Wilbur gives an especially harsh thrust, “so desperate for my cock.” And Dream’s an absolute mess. Tears are streaming down his face, drool all over his chin, and cheeks flushed from shame and exertion as Wilbur fucks the living daylights out of him. Wilbur can feel Dream’s length pressing against him where his body aligns with Dreams, can feel him twitching with every thrust. “Fall apart for me,” Wilbur coaxes, “say my name when you come.”

Dream moaned again loudly as he felt himself getting close. “W-Wilbur... I’m almost there...” he whimpered, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the saliva.

“Good boy,” Wilbur says, angling his hips up a bit, ramming right into Dream’s sweet spot, the other’s breath hitching in his throat. He can see Dream’s close, the muscles in his face spasm, his brow furrows and his lips part as he twitches around Wilbur, “just let it happen.” And Wilbur can feel his own climax, hot in the pit of his stomach, his cock aching and his mind getting fuzzy, delirious with pleasure.

Dream moaned loudly and he felt himself coming as well, not being super loud, but mumbling Wilbur’s name as he spilled all over his chest.

Wilbur finally halts, hissing as he comes undone, and letting himself relax. He pauses, still held up on on his arms, still inside Dream, panting heavily. “How was that, Dream?” He says between ragged breaths.

“Wow...” Dream felt absolutely blown away by the feelings that he was experiencing at the moment, feeling super full as both Wilbur’s cock and his seed was inside of him. “That was... wow...”

Wilbur pulls back, a bit shaky from holding himself up for so long. He watches himself slide out of Dream, satisfied, leaving streaks on the other’s thighs. He sits back between Dream’s knees, admiring the mess he’d made, Dream’s chest sticky and splattered. “Isn’t it better when you listen to me?” Wilbur asks.

“I... I guess,” Dream admitted sullenly, kind of embarrassed from their little escapade. “Can I get my hands free now?”

“Of course,” Wilbur says. And he goes behind him, grabbing the key off his desk and unlocking the cuffs.

Dream felt his hands get free and he rubbed his wrists, examining the angry red marks left over from being chained up.

It takes a moment for Wilbur to settle down, for the sweat on his skin to dry and for his adrenaline to go down. He puts himself back together a bit, puts his dick away and brushes his hair back from his face. Dream’s still sitting on the floor by the desk, clearly exhausted and overwhelmed by what he’d just been through. Wilbur isn’t ready for anything more, but he has plenty of energy to bother Techno, who has no doubt found a bit of excitement in the scene that unfolded before him. He sees the man sitting on the floor by the wreckage of the stool he’d so carelessly knocked over. Wilbur stands, leaning on the desk a bit and turning his attention towards Techno. “How are you feeling, Techno?” He asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first part by the way, George isn’t the only one getting fucked. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
